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CIHM/ICMH 

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TRAVELS 


IN 


THE   CALIFOENIAS, 


4ND 


SCENES  IN  THE  PACmC  OCEAN. 


1* 


BT 


THOMAS  J.  FARNHAM, 

Author  of  "  Travels  in  the  Great  Western  Prairies,  the  Anahuac  and  Rocky  MoonUOna, 
and  in  the  Oregon  Territory." 


NEW  YORK: 
PUBLISHED  BY  SAXTON  &  MILES. 

205   Broadway. 

1844. 


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Entered  aocdlng  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1844,  by 

THOMAS  J.    FARNHAM, 

in  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Soatheru  District  of  New  York. 


'N 


^1 


a.  W.  Benedict  Sc  Co.,  Stereotyper»  and  Printer,, 
128  Falton  street. 


IS 


PREFACE 


'M 


<i 


l\ 


In  sending  out  the  following  sheets,  the  Atithor  has  done  what 
a  year  ago  was  as  far  removed  from  the  path  of  his  intentions,  as  the 
theatre  of  the  incidents  related  is  fnnn  the  fireside  at  which  they  were 
written.  But  who  can  estimate  the  forfv  of  circumstances  in  shaping  his 
destiny  1 

I  wrote  my  Travels  in  the  Great  Westevn  Prairies,  &c.,  with  little  belief 
that  they  would  excite  any  altcntioii  beyond  the  circle  in  which  personal 
friendship  would  in  some  sense  link  the  reader  with  the  events  narrated. 
I  did  not  comprehend  the  extensive  interest  felt  in  journeying:,  over  the 
wild  and  barren  realms  of  uncultivated  Nature.    I  did  not  suppose  that 
the  dim  outline  which  words  could  give  of  the  snow-clad  peak,  the  desert 
vale,  and  the  trials  and  dangers  which  crowd  about  the  pilgrim  on  the 
Western  Deserts  and  Mountains,  could  be  made  sufficiently  distinct  to 
convey  even  a  satisfactory  shadow  of  their  sublime,  fearful  nature.    But 
the  very  unexpected  favor  with  which  that  work  has  been  received,  has 
led  me  to  conclude  that  such  matters,  related  as  far  as  they  maybe  at  all, 
with  fidelity,  are  valued  as  aseful  knowledge.    Indeed,  we  may  learn  much 
from  the  pulseless  solitudes — from  tiie  liesert  untrodden  by  the  foot  of  living 
thing — from  the  frozen  world  of  mountains,  whose  chasms  and  cliffs  never 
echoed  to  aught,  but  the  thunder-tempests  girding  their  frozen  peaks — 
from  old  Nature,  piled,  rocky,  bladeless,  toneless — if  we  will  allow  its 
lessons  of  awe  to  reach  the  mind,  and  impress  it  with  the  fresh  and  holy 
images  which  they  were  made  to  inspire. 

The  work  now  presented  is  another  attempt  of  the  same  kind.    It  dif- 
fers from  the  previous  one,  however,  in  many  particulars.    The  Great 


1 


IV 


PREFACE. 


South  Sea,  the  Hawaian  Islands,  and  the  Californias  arc  its  theme.  Up* 
per  and  Lower  California,  their  conquest  by  the  Spaniards,  Indians, 
white  inhabitants,  their  present  state,  surface,  vegetation,  streams, 
plains,  mountains,  volcanoes,  animals— all  these  as  they  have  been, 
and  now  are,  will  be  found  fully  described.  To  what  I  have  seen 
bas  been  added  authentic  information  from  every  known  source.  And 
now,  dear  readers,  to  your  task.  Mine  is  done.  Should  you  laugh  and 
weep,  suffer  and  rejoice  with  the  actors  in  the  wayfarings  before  you,  and 
send  your  fancy  in  after-times  over  those  rose-clad  realms  where  they  will 
lead  you,  and  feel  the  dews  of  a  pleasant  remembrance  falling  on  your 
life,  I  shall  receive  a  full  reward  for  my  toil. 

Adien, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


IS 


; 


Up. 
idians, 
■earns, 
been, 
seen 
And 
land 
i,and 
will 
your 


R. 


If 


CHAPTER    I. 

•'♦foiv 
A  Rerainiscence-A  Spcctacle-Oregjii-Lindward  and  Seaward— 
The  Gn-at  South  Sea-Magic  Palace— Tnkin-  in  S  udding-sails- 
Caveins-Storm  in  Full  Blast- Professor  -f  Psalrnody-Fur  Hunter— 
A  British  Tar-An  Author- A  Seaboat-A  Corkscrevv-A  Fla-on-A 
Conrersation  about  Li/e  in  the  Northwest— Its  Dogs-Logs— Food- 
Surlaee-Lords  of  the  Norih-Frozen  Mounlaius— Moss- Flowers- 
Potatoes,  Oats  and  Barley— Indian  Wives  and  Hheep-The  Arctic 
Shore— Suicide  of  a  Bravo  Mr.n— A  Solo— Eet  Pond— Ghost  in  the 
Shrouds- Tumult  in  Upper  and  Lower  Ocean— Minor  Key— War-cry 
—Special  Pleading— The  Sea— Wine  and  Song— To  Bed. 

In  a  work  entitled  "  Travels  in  the  Great  Western  Prairies," 
&c.,  to  which  the  following  pages  are  a  sequel,  I  left  my 
readers  off  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  river,  in  sight  of  the 
green  coast  of  Oregon.     Lower  Oregon  !     A  verdant  belt  of 
Wild  loveliness  !— A  great  park- of  flowering  shrubs,  of  forest 
pines,  and  clear  streams !     The  old  unchan-ed  home  of  the 
Indian;  where  he  has  hunted  the  moose  and  doer;  drawn 
the  trout  from  the  lake,  and  danmJ,  sung,  loved,  and  warred 
away  a  thousand  generations.     I  cannot  desire  for  myself  any 
remembrances  of  the  Past  which  shall  brin-  me  more  genuine 
wealth  of  pleasurable  emotions  than  lho:.e  which  came  to  me 
from  that  fourth  sunset  of  December,  1840,  when  I  was  lean- 
ing over  the  bulwarks  of  the  ship  Vancouver,  looking  back 
on  Oregon,  and  seaward  over  the  great  Pacific  !     A  spectacle 
of  true  grandeur  !     The  cones  of  eternal  snow  which  dot  the 
green  heights  of  the  President's  range  of  mountains,  iose  on 
the  dark  outline  of  the  distant  land,  and  hung  glittering  on 
1* 


6 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


[ 


I 


If: 


tlie  sky,  like  Islands  of  precious  stones  ;  so  brightly  did  they 
shine  in  the  setting  sun,  and  so  completely  did  the  soft  clouds 
around  their  bases  seem  to  separate  them  from  the  world 
below ! 

The  shores  of  Lower  Oregon !  They  rise  so  boldly  from 
the  sea !  Themselves  mountains  sparsely  clad  with  lofty 
pines,  spruce,  and  cedar  trees,  nodding  over  the  deep  ! 

And  then  the  ground  under  water!  No  flats,  no  mud 
banks  there.  The  cliffs  are  piled  up  from  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean !  The  old  Pacific,  with  his  dark  depths,  lies  within 
one  hundred  yards  of  them!  And  the  surges  that  run  in 
from  the  fury  of  the  tempests,  roll  with  unbroken  force  to  the 
towering  rocks,  and  breaking  with  all  their  momentum  at 
once,  make  the  land  tremble,  and  send  far  seaward  a  mighty 
chorus  to  the  shouting  storm ! 

The  Pacific  !  the  Great  South  Sea !  It  was  heaving  at  our 
bows;  steadily,  wave  on  wave  came  and  went;  and  follow- 
ing each  other  in  ceaseless  march  pressed  onward ;  like  the 
world's  hosts  in  marshaiied  files,  they  hastened  past  us,  as 
if  intent  to  reach  the  solid  shores,  where  some  resistance  would 
broach  their  hidden  strength  and  pour  their  fury  out ! 

Behold,  the  sea  I  Its  troubled  wastes  are  bending  and  top- 
pling with  a  wild,  plashing,  friendly  sound ;  a  deep,  blue, 
uncertain  vastness ;  itself  cold  and  passive ;  but  under  the 
lash  of  the  tempest,  full  of  terrific  life !  Our  ship  stood 
staunch  upon  the  palpitating  mass,  and  seemed  to  love  it. 

Mizen  and  mizen-top,  main  and  main-top,  fore  and  fore- 
topsails,  and  the  lower  weather  studding-sails  were  out.  The 
breeze  from  the  land  which  had  carried  us  over  the  bar  still 
held,  every  thread  of  canvass  drew,  every  cord  was  tight,  and 
as  we  looked  up  through  the  rigging  to  the  sky,  the  sails, 
cordage  and  masts  swayed  under  the  clouds  like  the  roofing 
of  some  magic  palace  of  olden  tales.  All  hands  were  on 
deck ;  both  watches  sat  about  the  windlass ;  while  the  second 
officer  and  mate  looked  at  the  horizon  over  the  weather -bow, 
and  pointed  out  a  line  of  clouds  crowding  ominously  up  the 


TBAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFOUNIAS 


'■k 


■i+ 


t-^ 


I 


southwestern  sky.    The  captain  stood  upon  the  companion- 
way,  looking  at  the  barometer.     In  a  little  time  officers,  aid 
passengers  gathered  in  a  knot  on  the  larboard-quarter. 
"  I  ken  there's  a  storm  comin'  up  frae  the  soo'est,"  said  the 

Scotch  mate. 

"The  clouds  loom  fast,  sir,  in  that  quarter,"  said  Mr. 
Newell,  the  American  second-mate.  "I  reckon  it  will  be 
upon  us  soon." 

Captain  Duncan  needed  no  information  in  regard  to  the 
weather  on  these  shores.  He  was  everywhere  an  accom- 
plished seaman.  On  the  quarter-deck — with  his  quadrant — 
on  the  spars — and  at  the  halyards ;  but  especially  in  that 
prophetic  knowledge  of  the  weather,  which  gives  the  sons  of 
Neptune  their  control  over  the  elements,  he  had  no  superiors. 

"  Take  in  the  studding-sails  and  make  all  fast  on  deck,"  is 
the  order,  issued  with  quietness  and  obeyed  with  alacrity. 
Water  casks,  long-boat,  and  caboose  are  lashed,  ropes  coiled 
up  and  hung  on  the  pins  in  the  bulwarks,  and  the  hatches 
put  down  in  storm  rig.  The  wind  before  which  we  were  run- 
ning abated,  and  the  horizon  along  the  line  of  departing  light 
began  to  lift  a  rough  undulating  edge. 

"  Take  in  the  mainsail !"  "  Go  aloft  and  take  a  reef  in  the 
maintop  !"  "  In  with  the  fore-main,  and  let  the  trysail  run !" 
followed  each  other  in  haste,  as  the  sailors  moved  to  the 
cheering  music  of  their  songs  in  the  work  of  preparing  the 
ship  to  wrestle  with  a  southwester.  Everything  being  made 
snug,  we  waited  its  coming. 

The  rough  water  which  appeared  a  mere  speck  when  the 
wind  came  upon  the  circle  of  vision,  had  widened  till  its 
extreme  points  lay  over  the  bows.  On  it  came,  widening  and 
elevating  itself  more  and  more !  The  billows  had  previously 
been  smootli,  or  at  least  ruffled  sufficient  only  to  give  their 
gently  heaving  sides  a  furzy  aspect,  while  the  tops  occasionally 
rose  in  transparent  combs,  which  immediately  crumbled  by 
their  own  weight  into  foam  down  their  leeward  acclivities. 
But  now  a  stro^^^er  spirit  had  laid  his  arm  on  these  ocean 


8 


8  C  E  N  I",  s      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


'II 


coursers.  The  wind  came  on,  steadily  increasing  its  might 
from  moment  to  moment!  At  first  it  tore  the  tops  of  the 
waves  into  ragged  lines,  then  rent  the  whole  surface  into 
fragments  of  every  conceivable  form,  which  rose,  appeared 
and  vanished,  with  the  rapidity  of  thought,  dancing  like  sprites 
among  the  lurid  moving  caverns  of  the  sea !  A  struggling 
vastness !  constantly  broken  by  the  flail  of  the  tempest,  and 
as  often  reunited,  to  be  cleft  still  farther  by  a  redoubled  blast. 

The  darkness  thickened  as  the  storm  increased  ;  and  when 
the  lanthorn  was  lighted  in  the  binnacle,  and  the  night-watch 
set,  the  captain  and  passengers  went  below  to  their  wine  and 
anecdotes.  Our  company  consisted  of  four  persons.  One 
was  a  singing-master  from  Connecticut,  Texas,  New  Orleans, 
and  St.  Louis.  He  was  such  an  animal  as  one  would  wish  to 
find  if  he  were  making  up  a  human  menagerie ;  so  positive 
was  he  of  step,  so  lofty  in  the  neck,  and  dignified  in  the  absurd 
blunders  wherewith  he  perpetually  corrected  the  opinions  and 
assertions  of  others. 

Another  was  a  Mr.  Simpson,  a  young  Scotchman  of  res- 
pectable family,  a  clerk  in  the  service  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company.  This  was  a  fine  fellow,  twenty-five  years  of  age, 
full  of  energy  and  good  feeling,  well-intbrmed  on  general  topics, 
and  like  most  other  British  subjects  abroad,  troubled  with  an 
irrepressible  anxiety  at  the  growing  power  of  the  States,  and 
an  overwhelming  loyalty  toward  the  mother-country  and  its 
Sovereign  skirts.  The  other  personages  were  the  commander, 
Duncan,  and  the  author. 

The  Captain  was  an  old  British  tar,  with  a  heart  full  of 
generosity  for  his  friends,  and  a  fist  full  of  bones  for  his  ene- 
mies. A  glass  of  cheer  with  a  messmate,  and  a  rope's  end  for 
a  disobedient  sailor,  were  with  him  impromptu  productions, 
for  which  he  had  capacity  and  judgment ;  a  hearty,  five  foot 
nine  inch,  burly,  stout-chested  Englishman,  whom  it  was 
always  pleasant  to  see  and  hear. 

This  little  company  gathered  around  the  cabin  table,  and 
all  as  one  listened  a  moment  to  the  beatings  of  the  tempest. 


11       H 


9 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIF 0RNIA8, 


9 


n- 


'ir| 


A  surge — another — and  a  third  still  heavier,  beat  upon  the 
noble  ship  and  sent  a  thrill  through  every  timber.  On  they 
rolled,  and  dashed,  and  groaned.  But  her  iron  heart  only 
seemed  to  gather  strength  from  the  conflict,  and  inspire  us 
with  a  feeling  of  perfect  safety. 

"  A  fine  sea-boat  is  the  Vancouver,  gentlemen,"  said  Cap- 
tain Duncan,  "  she  rides  the  storm  like  a  petrel :"  and  with 
this  comfortable  assurance  we  seated  ourselves  at  the  table. 

I  had  nearly  forgotten  Tom,  the  cabin-boy ;  a  mere  mouse 
of  a  lad ;  who  knew  the  rock  of  a  ship  and  the  turn  of  a 
corkscrew  as  well  as  any  one ;  and  as  he  was  spry,  had  a 
short  name,  a  quick  ear,  and  bore  the  keys  to  the  sideboard 
and  some  things  elsewhere,  all  well-bred  stomachs  would  not 
fail  to  blast  my  quill,  if  I  omitted  to  write  his  name  and  draw 
his  portrait. 

Well,  Tom  was  one  of  those  sons  of  old  England,  who  are 
born  to  the  inheritance  of  poverty,  and  a  brave  heart  for  the 
seas.  Like  many  thousand  children  of  the  Fatherland,  when 
the  soil  refused  him  bread,  he  was  apprenticed  for  the  term 
of  seven  years  to  seamanship.  And  there  he  was,  an  English 
sailor-boy,  submitting  to  the  most  rigorous  discipline,  serving 
the  first  part  of  his  time  in  learning  to  keep  his  cabin  in  order, 
and  wa't  at  the  table,  that  when,  as  he  was  taught  to  expect, 
he  should  have  a  ship  of  his  own,  he  might  know  how  to  be 
served  like  a  gentleman.  This  part  of  his  apprenticeship  he 
performed  admirably.  And  when  he  shall  leave  the  cork- 
screw and  the  locker  for  the  quarter-deck,  I  doubt  not  he  will 
scream  at  a  storm,  and  utter  his  commands  with  sufficient  im- 
periousness  to  entitle  him  to  have  a  Tom  of  his  own. 

"  Tom,"  said  Captain  Duncan,  "  bring  out  a  flagon  of  Ja- 
maica, and  set  on  the  glasses,  lad.  This  storm,  gentlemen, 
calls  for  cheer.  When  Neptune  labors  at  this  pace,  he  loves 
his  dram.  Fill,  gentlemen,  to  absent  wives."  This  compli- 
ment to  the  sacred  ascendency  of  the  domestic  affections  was 
timely  given.  The  storm  howled  hideously  for  our  lives,  our 
families  were  far  distant  over  seas  and  mountains,  the  heart 


ii.1 


tt  . 


•J  '• 


\f 


I 


I 


i  I 


' 


10 


^ 


S  C  E  N  i:  S       IN       T  11  K       PACIFIC 


was  pressed  with  sadness :    we  drank  in  sUencc  and  with 
swimming  eyes. 

A  pleasant  conversation  followed  this  toast,  in  which  each 
one  of  our  little  band  exhibited  himself  in  his  own  way.  The 
Captain  was  a  hearty  old  Saxon,  who  had  inherited  from  a 
thousand  generations,  a  love  for  home,  its  hearth  and  blazing 
evening  fire,  its  old  oaken  table,  its  family  arm-chair,  and  the 
wife  who  presided  over  that  temple  of  holy  aflections.  In 
him,  therefore,  we  had  the  genuine  spirit  of  those  good  old 
times  when  man  used  his  physical  and  mental  powers,  to  build 
about  his  heart  the  structures  of  positive  happiness,  instead  of 
the  artificial  semblances  of  these,  which  fashion  and  affecta- 
tion draw  around  the  modern  home. 

Our  professor  of  psalmody  was  the  opposite  of  this.  He 
had,  when  the  red  blood  of  youth  warmed  his  heart,  in  the 
ways  of  honest  nature,  spoken  sweet  things  to  a  lovely  girl, 
won  her  affections,  promised  marriage,  and,  as  his  beard  grew, 
became  a  gentleman :  tliat  is,  jilted  her.  He,  therefore,  was 
fond  of  freedom,  could  not  be  confined  to  so  plain  and  quiet  a 
business  as  the  love  of  one  woman,  and  the  care  of  a  family 
of  children.  "  It  was  quite  horrid,  indeed  it  was,  for  a  man 
who  had  any  music  in  his  soul ;  the  mere  idea  was  concen- 
trated picra  to  his  moral  stomach ;  the  thought,  bah !  that  a 
gentleman  could  ever  think  of  being  a  daddy,  and  trotting  on 
his  paternal  knee,  a  semi-yearling  baby." 

Mr.  Simpson  was  from  the  braes  of  Scotland.  For  many 
years  he  had  lived  an  isolated  and  roving  life,  among  the 
snows,  morasses,  and  lakes  of  the  wilderness,  which  lies  west 
and  north-west  of  Hudson's  Bay.  He  had  been  taught  his 
catechism  at  kirk,  and  also  a  proper  respect  for  the  ties  of  the 
domestic  sentiments.  But  that  peculiar  idea  of  manliness 
which  grows  up  in  those  winter  realms  of  danger,  privation, 
and  loneliness,  had  gradunlly  habituated  him  to  speak  of  these 
relations  as  desirable  mainly  when  the  body  had  expended  its 
energy  in  striding  mountar  \  in  descending  rocky  torrentfr 


%» 


& 


TRAVELS       IN       THE       CAL IFORNIA8 


11 


with  boats  laden  with  furs,  and  in  the  other  bold  enterprises  of 
these  daring  traders. 

From  him  we  obtained  a  description  of  some  portions  of 
that  vast  country  occupied  by  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  ; 
and  some  infornation  on  other  topics  connected  with  it. 
Life  in  the  Company's  service  was  briedy  tlescribed.  Their 
travelling  is  performed  in  various  ways  at  different  seasons  of 
the  year  and  in  different  latitudes.  In  Oregon  their  journeys 
are  chiefly  made  in  Mackinaw  boats  and  Indian  canoes. 
With  these  they  ascend  and  descend  the  various  streams,  bear- 
ing their  cargoes,  and  often  their  boats,  from  the  head-waters 
of  one  to  those  of  another.  In  this  manner  they  pass  up  the 
Cowelitz  and  descend  the  Chihiiis  with  their  furs  and  other 
goods ;  thus  do  they  reach  the  head  waters  of  the  northern 
fork  of  the  Columbia,  pass  over  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  run 
down  the  rivers  and  lakes  to  Canada.  Farther  north  on  the 
east  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  range,  they  travel  much  on 
foot  in  summer,  and  in  winter  (which  is  there  the  greatest  part 
of  the  year)  on  sledges  drawn  by  dogs.  Ten  or  twelve  of 
these  animals  are  attached  to  a  light  sledge,  in  which  the 
man  sits  wrapped  in  furs  and  surrounded  by  meat  for  his  car- 
nivorous steeds  and  provisions  for  himself.  Thus  rigged,  the 
train  starts  on  the  hard  snow  crust,  and  makes  eighty  or  one 
hundred  miles  before  the  dogs  tire.  When  the  time  for  rest 
comes,  they  are  unharnessed,  fed,  tied  to  the  bushes  or  shrubs, 
and  the  traveller  enveloped  in  furs,  adchesses  himself  to  sleep 
under  the  lea  of  a  snow-bank  or  precipitous  rock.  When  na- 
ture is  recruited  the  train  is  again  harneSvSed  and  put  on  route. 
The  Aurora  Borealis,  which  flames  over  the  skies  of  those 
latitudes,  illuminates  the  country  so  well,  that  the  absence  of 
the  sun  during  the  winter  months  offers  no  obstacles  to  these 
journeyings.  Drawn  by  dogs  over  mountain  and  plain,  under 
heavens  filled  with  electric  crackling  light,  the  traveller 
feels  that  his  situation  harmonizes  well  with  the  sublime  de- 
solation of  that  wintry  zone.     In  this  manner  these  adventur- 


.« 

•( 


J3 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


ous  men  travel  from  the  mouth  of  Mackenzie's  river  to  York 
on  Hudson's  Bay  and  to  Canada. 

Their  dwellings  are  usually  constructed  of  logs  in  the  form 
of  our  frontier  cabins.  They  are  generally  surrounded  by 
pickets,  and  in  other  respects  arranged  so  as  to  resist  any  at- 
tack which  the  neighboring  savages  may  make  upon  them. 
They  are  usually  manned  by  an  officer  of  the  Company  and  a 
few  Canadian  Frenchmen.  Li  these  rude  castles,  rising  in  the 
midst  of  the  frozen  north,  live  the  active  and  fearless  gentle- 
men of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company.  The  frosts  of  the  poles 
can  neither  freeze  the  blood  nor  the  energy  of  men  who  spring 
from  the  little  Island  of  Britain.  The  torrid,  the  temperate, 
and  the  frozen  zones  alike  hear  the  language  and  acknowledge 
the  power  of  that  wonderful  race. 

The  food  of  these  traders  is  as  rude  as  their  mode  of  life.  At 
most  of  the  Forts  they  live  almost  exclusively  on  the  white 
and  other  kinds  of  fish  ;  no  vegetables  of  any  description  are 
obtainable ;  an  occasional  deer  or  woods  buffalo  or  musk  ox 
is  procured  ;  but  seldom  is  their  fare  changed  from  the  produce 
of  the  lakes  and  "Streams.  At  a  few  of  their  stations  not  even 
these  can  be  had ;  and  the  company  is  obliged  to  supply  them 
with  pemican.  This  is  buffalo  meat  dried,  finely  pulverized, 
mixed  with  fat  and  service  berries,  and  secured  in  leathern 
sacks.  They  transport  this  from  latitudes  forty-eight  and 
nine  to  different  places  on  Mackenzie's  river,  and  other  parts 
of  the  extreme  north.  Wild  fowl,  geese  and  ducks  afford 
another  means  of  subsistence.  At  York  and  other  posts  in 
the  neighborhood  of  lakes,  large  numbers  of  these  fowl  are 
taken  in  the  summer  season,  and  salted  for  winter  use.  But 
with  all  their  painstaking,  these  gentlemen  live  but  poorly ; 
on  a  diet  of  flesh  alone,  and  that  of  an  indiffiEjrent  quality. 
Hardy  men  are  these  lords  of  the  snows.  Their  realm  em- 
braces one-ninth  of  the  earth.  This  immense  territory  Mr. 
Simpson  informed  us  has  a  great  variety  of  surface. 

On  the  north-eastern  portion  lie  extensive  tracts  of  per- 
petually frozen  mountains,  cut  by  narrow  valleys  filled  with 


T  n  A  V  E  I-  S       IN       'I   II  K       C  A  L  I  F  0  R  N  I  A  S  . 


13 


t 


fallen  clifTs,  among  which  dash  and  roar  numerous  rivers  on 
their  way  to  the  Irozen  sea.  Scarcely  any  timber  or  other 
vegetation  grows  in  these  wastes.  A  lonely  evergreen  or  a 
stunted  white  birch  takes  root  h^le  and  there,  and  duiing  the 
lew  weeks  of  summer,  mosses  and  lichens  present  a  few  ver- 
dant spots  in  the  damp  recesses  of  the  rocks.  But  cold  winds, 
laden  with  hail  and  sleet,  howl  over  the  budding  of  every 
green  thing !  The  flowers  can  scarcely  show  their  petals  and 
set  their  seeds,  before  winter  with  its  cracking  ices  and  falling 
snow  embraces  them ! 

The  section  of  country  which  lies  about  Mackenzie's  river, 
differs  from  that  described,  in  having  dense  forests  skirting 
portions  of  the  valleys,  and  large  plains  of  moss  and  lichen,  on 
which  feed  the  deer,  buffalo,  musk-ox  and  moose.  The  river 
itself  is,  in  summer  months,  navigable  for  batteaux  several 
hundred  miles.  It  is  well  stored  with  trout,  salmon,  white 
and  other  fish.  But  the  winters  there  also  scarcely  end,  be- 
fore they  begin  again  their  work  of  freezing  land,  stream, 
and  sea. 

The  extensive  country  lying  on  the  head  waters  of  the 
streams  which  run  northward  into  the  Frozen  Ocean,  east- 
ward  into  Hudson's  Bay,  and  southward  into  the  Canadian 
waters,  is  composed  of  swamps,  broken  at  intervals  with  piles 
of  boulders  and  minor  mountains,  and  dotted  with  clumps  of 
bushes,  plots  of  hassocks,  and  fields  of  wild  rice.  The  waters 
of  these  table  lands  form  many  lakes  and  lofty  cascades  oa 
the  way  to  their  several  destinations.  The  roar  of  these  on 
the  dreadful  frozen  barrenness  around,  Mr.  Simpson  represent- 
ed to  be  awful  in  the  extreme ;  so  wild,  hoarse,  and  ringing 
are  their  echoes. 

We  were  informed  that  there  are  considerable  tracts  of 
arable  land  on  the  western  side  of  Hudson's  Bay,  occupied  by 
several  settlements  of  Scotch;  that  these  people  cultivate 
nothing  but  potatoes,  oats,  barley,  and  some  few  garden 
vegetables ;  and  are  altogether  in  a  very  undesirable  condi- 
tion. He  also  informed  us  of  a  tract  oi'  tillable  land,  lying 
2 


t. 


vj 


14 


8  C  E  ^f  K  s      IN       Tilt;       PACIFIC 


i 


M 


some  hundreds  of  miles  northeast  of  Lake  Superior,  on  which 
Lord  Selkirk  had  founded  a  colony  ;  Ihat  this  settlement  con- 
tains about  three  thousand  people,  composed  chiefly  of  gentle- 
men and  servants,  who  H#ve  retired  from  the  Company's 
service  with  their  Indian  wives  and  half-breed  children. 
They  cultivate  considerable  tracts  of  land,  have  cattle  and 
horses,  schools  and  churches,  a  Catholic  Bishop  and  a  Protes- 
tant preacher  of  the  English  Church.  Some  years  since  a 
Mr.  McLeod,  from  this  settlement,  went  to  Indiana  and  pur- 
chased a  very  large  drove  of  sheep  for  its  use.  But  in  driving 
them  a  thousand  miles  over  the  prairies,  their  fleeces  became 
so  matted  with  poisonous  burrs,  that  most  of  them  died  before 
reaching  their  place  of  destination. 

Mr.  Simpson  related  a  few  incidents  of  an  exploring  expe- 
dition, which  the  Company  had  despatched  to  the  northern 
coast  of  America.  The  unsatisfactory  results  of  those  fitted 
out  by  the  home  government,  under  Parry,  Franklin,  Ross, 
and  Back,  which  had  been  partially  furnished  with  men  and 
means  by  the  Company,  led  it  at  length  to  undertake  one 
alone.  To  this  end  it  despatched,  in  1838,  one  of  its  officers, 
accompanied  by  our  friend  Simpson's  brother,  well  furnished 
with  men,  instruments,  and  provisions  on  this  hazardous  enter- 
prise. I  have  since  been  informed,  that  this  Mr.  Simpson 
was  a  man  of  great  energy  and  talent — the  one  indeed  on 
whom  the  Company  reUed  for  the  success  of  the  undertaking. 
From  his  brother  I  learned  only  that  the  unexplored  part  of 
the  coast  was  surveyed,  that  the  waters  of  Davis'  Strait  were 
found  to  flow  with  a  strong  current  westward,  and  enter  the 
Pacific  through  Behring's  Strait ;  and  that  Greenland  conse- 
quently is  an  island  or  continent  by  itself!  The  Mr.  Simpson 
of  this  expedition  is  now  known  to  tl.e  civilized  world  to  have 
trodden  the  ices  and  snows,  and  breathed  the  frozen  air  of 
that  horrid  shore ;  and  by  so  doing  to  have  added  these  great 
facts  to  the  catalogue  of  human  knowledge ;  and  having  be- 
come deranged  in  consequence  of  his  incredible  sufferings,  to 
have  blown  out  his  own  brains  on  the  field  of  bis  glorious 


=1 


T  U  A  V  K  I.  S       IN       THE       C  A  I,  I   F  0  I!  N  IAS 


15 


one 


I 

i4 


deeds.  Our  companion,  poor  fellow,  was  happily  ii^norant 
of  that  sad  event,  and  spoke  of  the  expedition  only  as  one  of 
great  hardship,  yet  such  as  ho  would  have  gladly  shared. 
His  brave  kinsman  was  then  dead  ! 

When  Mr.  Sirai)son  paused  in  these  interesting  narrations, 
our  professor  of  psalmody,  who  had  been  beating  the  t«ible 
with  a  tuning  fork,  opened  a  solo  upon  Texas.  He  had  been 
in  that  country,  and  was,  in  his  own  estimation,  as  familiar 
with  its  rivers,  plains,  forests  and  destiny,  as  with  the  paths 
across  his  father's  sheep-pasture.  (Jalveston  was  a  London 
in  embryo:  Sam  Houston  had  inherited  the  knee-buckles 
and  shoe-knots  of  Washington's  patriotism ;  the  whole  coun- 
try was  an  Eden  in  which  he  had  obtained  the  best  site  for  a 
grist-mill,  and  the  finest  pond  for  eels !  In  short  we  were  in- 
formed in  a  tone  of  self-consequence,  at  least  an  octave  above 
mi,  on  any  known  scale  of  conceit,  that  himself  and  a  brace 
of  fellow  blades,  on  hearing  that  the  Government  had  offered 
a  bounty  of  land  to  emigrants,  went  thither,  remained  long 
enough  to  perfect  their  title  to  a  share  of  the  public  domain, 
and  were  then  obliged  by  pressing  business  to  return  to  the 
States  and  leave  others  to  fight  and  die  for  freedom. 

He  had  a  belief  that  the  Californias  would  make  a  respecta- 
ble abode  for  man,  if  it  were  conquered  by  a  bold  arm,  a  little 
music,  and  made  into  a  Republic  by  a  man,  he  did  not  men- 
tion his  own  name,  whose  character  for  bravery,  intelligence 
and  taste  for  the  fine  arts,  he  did  not  say  psalmody,  would 
draw  around  him  the  unemployed  intellect  and  courage  of  the 
States.  In  conclusion  he  modestly  remarked,  that  he  himself 
was  destined  to  the  Californias,  but  did  not  say  that  he  intend- 
ed to  open  there  a  revolutionary  singing  school ! 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  the  good  old  ship 
was  struggling  with  the  tempest.  She  headed  north-westerly, 
and  as  the  storm  and  swells  came  from  the  southwest,  she 
at  one  time  lay  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  and  then,  as  the  wave 
bore  down  upon  her,  swayed  to  the  leeward  a  moment,  rock- 
ed upon  its  summit,  and  as  the  surge  passe<l  on,  reeled  to  the 


16 


H  C  K  N  !•:  H       J  \        1   II  K       1'  A  t    I   K  (  C 


' 


I'; 


f    :f! 


1' 


windwanl  and  slid  into  llu;  trouj^h  a^ain.  This  is  the  bitter- 
est motion  of  a  ship  at  sea,  wlii'thir  ho  whom  it  stafTjTors  be  a 
"  land  lublu'i"  or  "  a  salt."  Thr  latter  finds  it  diincult  to 
take  his  watch-walk  from  the  windlass  to  the  fore-stays,  and 
swears  that  such  a  lullaby  is  as  unworthy  of  the  ocean  god 
as  it  is  unseemly  ibr  a  decent  sailor,  to  stand,  at  one  instant 
with  one  le<^  clewed  up  and  the  other  out,  and  the  next  clew- 
ed the  other  way,  and  be  compelled,  at  each  chanj^e,  to  brace 
himself  back  in  the  attitude  of  beinj^  frightened  to  death  by  a 
ghost  in  the  shrouds. 

The  landsman  may  perhaps  feel  too  nmch  awe  to  swear  at 
the  great  deep,  employed  in  its  sid)lime  labors  ;  or  if  he  dare 
profane  thus  the  majesty  of  his  Maker's  movements,  his  noble 
self  io  uiMially  the  object  of  so  much  solicitude  as  to  deny 
him  any  adequate  opportunity  of  doing  so.  His  stomach  will 
demand  much  of  the  attention  which  he  would  fain  bestow 
upon  other  objects  ;  and  it  will  scarcely  be  refused  what  it 
requires.  We  sat  at  the  table  till  eight  bells.  A  delightful 
chit-chat  we  had;  such  a  variety  of  wisdom,  such  splendor  of 
reminiscence,  such  bolts  of  reason  rending  and  laying  bare  all 
the  mines  of  thought  were  there ! 

But  this  and  all  that  we  had  in  expectancy  that  night, 
ended  not  in  smoke ;  that  would  have  been  land-like  ;  but  in 
a  stealthy  withdrawal  of  our  company  one  at  a  time  to  pay 
their  tribute  to  Padre  Neptune.  The  singing  master  struck 
minor  key  first ;  the  fur  kunter  followed  with  his  war-cry ; 
the  Green  Mountain  lawyer  came  to  the  encounter  with  a 
throat  full  of  special  pleading ;  and  after  a  hot  melee  each  sur- 
rendered, on  such  terms  as  he  could  procure,  all  claim  to  the 
inborn  rights  of  a  quiet  stomach  and  clean  nose ;  and  turned 
in.  The  night  was  passed  by  us  in  the  cabin  in  clinging  to 
our  births.  The  seamen  on  deck  struck  the  bells,  changed 
the  watch,  and  stood  out  like  iron  men  on  the  tide  of  that  ter- 
rible tempest !  Their  thrilling  "  0  he  oe"  occasionally  cut 
sharply  and  cheeringly  into  the  hoarse  cadences  of  the  storm  I 


'r  R  A  V  E  I.  •"*     IN     r  II  i;     c  a  i,  i  k  o  u  n  i  a  s  . 


17 


Every  other  sound  of  living  thing  was  buried  in  (he  clangor 
ol'  the  elements. 

Tlie  next  morning  opened  with  gloomy  grj»  .<leur.  The 
elomls  ljri«i;htened  by  the  first  laysot  the  sun  in  detached  spots 
only,  apjjeaiing and  (hsappearing  in  rajiid  sucression,  intimated 
that  the  whole  mnssof  a-rial  fluid  was  lleeing  at  a  fearful  pace 
before  the  unabated  tempest.  As  the  light  increjised  into  full 
day,  the  canopy  liung  so  dark  and  densely  down  the  Heavens, 
that  nic^lit  appeand  to  have  retaine«l  the  half  of  its  dominion. 
It  did  not  touch  the  water  as  fogs  do ;  but  the  massive  heavy 
f(jl(l  kit  between  itself  and  the  surface  of  tlic  ocean,  a  space 
apparently  three  liundred  yards  in  depth.  That  was  a  sight 
to  woniler  at.  I  could  conceive  of  nothing  in  nature  so  far 
be}<)n(l  the  power  ol  words  to  portray.  Does  the  simile  of  a 
boundless  tomb,  vaulted  with  mourning  crape,  shaken  by  fierce 
winds,  half  lighted,  filled  with  death-scr(!ams,  represent  it  ? 
I  cannot  tell :  but  such  an  idea  arose  as  1  looked  out  upon  the 
scene. 

Old  Ocean,  too,  was  in  a  glorious  mood.  I  had  often  seen 
the  Atlantic  lay  with  his  mighty  bosom  heaving  to  the  sky, 
calm  and  peaceful  like  a  benevolent  giant  slumbering  on  a 
world  of  lesser  things ;  or,  to  use  no  figure,  I  had  seen  it 
slightly  agitated,  every  particle  tremulous  under  a  soft  breeze, 
every  drop  sending  back  the  sunshine,  or  multiplying  indefi- 
niMy  the  stars  of  a  clear  June  night.  I  had  seen  it  when  the 
swells  were  torn  by  a  "  dry  squall,"  or  an  hour's  "  blow,"  and 
heard  its  icebergs  crack  and  plunge^  and  seen  its. fearful  wa- 
terspouts marching  so  near  me  that  I  could  hear  their  awful 
roar  I  But  I  had  not  seen  it  raised  and  rent,  in  the  height  of 
its  tumult  and  power.  AH  this  was  now  before  me  in  the 
great  Pacific. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  storm  had  gained  its  utmost  strength. 
Tiie  ship  was  laid  to.  The  waves  were  dashing  over  her  bul- 
warks. The  Captain  was  standing  braced  upon  the  weather 
quarter  dressed  in  a  long  pea-jacket,  stout  sea-pants  and  boots, 
and  an  oil-cloth  cap  covering  head  and  shoulders.     The  watch 


18 


s  c  K  N  i;  s     r  N' 


I  u 


»'  A  c  I  r  I  c 


1 


•I". 


on  duty  were  huddled  under  the  weather  bow  and  lashed  to 
the  stays  to  prevent  being  washed  overboard.  Tlie  second 
mate  stood  midship,  holding  fast  to  the  rigging.  All  were 
looking  at  the  storm.  The  ship  herself  lay  like  a  lost  water 
bird,  rising,  falling,  buried  and  mounting  again,  among  the 
overwhelming  waves. 

The  appearance  of  the  sea ! — Who  can  describe  it  ?  Like 
the  land,  it  had  its  valleys,  and  mountains,  and  streams.  But 
its  vales,  instead  of  flowers  and  grasses,  were  covered  with 
wisps  of  torn  water ;  the  mountains,  instead  of  snowy  peaks, 
were  billows,  crested  with  combs  of  light  blue  water,  tipped 
with  foam,  perpetually  tumbling  down  and  forming  again,  as 
the  floods  rushed  on,  lashing  one  another.  And  the  streams 
were  not  such  as  flow  through  meadows  and  woodlands  among 
creeping  flower  vines;  but  swift  eddies,  whirling  through  the 
heaving  caverns  of  the  sea  ! 

Its  voice !  Its  loud  bass  notes  f — What  is  like  it  ?  Not  the 
voice  of  the  storms  which  assemble  with  lightning,  thunder 
and  wind,  and  pour  devastating  hail  and  fire  on  the  upper 
heights  and  vales  of  the  llocky  Mountains.  Nor  is  it  like  the 
deep  monitory  groan  that  booms  down  the  Great  Prairie  Wild- 
erness at  midnight,  growing  louder  as  it  draws  near,  until  the 
accumulated  electricity  ignites  in  one  awful  explosion,  rending 
the  clouds  and  tearing  up  the  shaken  ground  !  Nor  is  it  like 
the  voice  of  Niagara.  That  great  cataract  of  the  earth  has  a 
majestic  stave,  a  bold  sound,  as  it  leaps  from  the  poised  brink 
to  the  whirling  depths  below  !  And  when  the  ancient  woods, 
with  all  their  leafy  canopies  and  ringing  crags,  stood  up  around 
it,  and  neither  the  hamraerof  the  smith,  nor  other  din  of  cultivated 
life,  cast  its  vexing  discords  among  the  echoes,  the  sounds  of 
Niagara  must  have  resembled  this  subhme  duet  of  the  sea  and 
the  storm ;  but  never  equalled  it !  It  was  a  single  note  of 
nature's  lofty  hymns.  To  the  ear  of  the  Indian  who  stood  upon 
the  shelving  rocks  and  heard  it ;  who  saw  the  floods  come  cours- 
ing down  the  rapids,  bend  upon  the  brink,  and  plunge  with 
quickened  speed  into  the  vexed  caldron,  sending  their  peals  to 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


19 


* 


the  rainbowed  Heaven,  they  must  have  borne  an  anthem  as 
grand  as  his  wild  mind  could  compass — greater  even.  His  bow 
must  have  dropped,  and  himself  and  the  unharmed  deer  stood 
together,  in  mute  wonder  at  Niagara  chanting  to  the  shades 
and  silence  of  the  old  American  Wilderness  ! 

But  the  song  of  the  sea !  Is  it  not  more  than  this  ?  Miles 
in  depth ;  hundreds  of  leagues  in  breadth ;  an  immiensity  drop 
on  drop  and  mass  on  mass  in  motion  !  The  tempest  piles  up 
the  surface  into  lofty  ridges,  every  inch  of  which  emits  a  pe- 
culiar liquid  sound,  which,  mingling  sweetly  with  each  other 
far  and  wide,  pulsates  through  the  surrounding  air  and  water ! 
Sweet  and  boundless  melodies  of  the  seas  !  We  know  that 
the  incumbent  air  takes  up  a  part  of  them,  while  another  part 
goes  down  into  the  still  and  motionless  depths  below ;  the 
sublime  unbroken  darkness  of  the  sea !  It  was  unpleasant  to 
feel  thrit  the  screaming  cordage  of  our  ships  and  the  quarrelling 
of  the  hull  and  the  waves,  should  deprive  us  of  hearing  the 
tones  of  the  Pacific  waters,  during  the  strength  of  a  hurricane, 
unmarred  by  any  other  sound.  Can  it  ever  be  given  man  to 
hear  it  7  It  is  the  Creator's  great  choir !  Ocean  tuned  by  His 
own  hand  and  swept  by  the  fingers  of  His  tempest ! 

Our  good  ship,  carrying  barely  sail  enough  to  make  her 
obey  the  helm,  beat  from  the  southeast  to  the  northwest.  On 
the  outward  tack  we  generally  made  a  few  miles  on  our  course, 
a  ])art  of  which  we  lost  on  the  other.  It  was  vexatious  to  be 
buffeted  thus  to  no  purpose ;  to  have  our  stomachs  in  a  tumult ; 
our  jaws  griding  down  oiu*  teeth  instead  of  eating  ;  but  withal 
it  was  very  amusing.  I  had  always  thought  that  men  in  a 
tolerable  state  of  misery,  possessed  increased  capacities  to 
render  themselves  ridiculous,  A  number  of  common-place 
things  proved  this  idea  to  be  true.  Turning-in  was  one  of 
these.  This  is  a  process  of  going  to-bed ;  extraordinary  in 
nothing  else  than  the  novel  manner  in  which  it  is  performed 
at  sea  in  a  gale. 

The  reader  will  pardon  me.  Please  step  into  the  cabin  of 
the  Vancouver,  and  be  seated  by  the  nice  little  grate,  filled 


f 

! 


20 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


■i* 


II 


* 


V  -f  !l 


V 


with  blazing  coal  from  the  mines  of  Paget's  Sound.  You  will 
perhaps  amuse  one  eye  with  Tam  O'Shanter,  while  with  the 
other  you  explore.  The  six  foot  lawyer  is  gathering  toward 
his  berth.  It  is  the  lower  one  on  the  larboard  side  of  the 
i/?bin.  His  countenance,  you  will  observe,  is  in  a  miniature 
tem^JKCft.  The  ship  rolls  suddenly,  his  feet  slip  from  under 
him,  and  ^  slides  under  the  table  accompanied  by  a  bag  of 
apples,  a  scutlte  of  coal,  Tom  the  cabin-boy,  and  a  hot  poker ! 
Coal,  apples,  and  the  law  strown  in  indiscriminate  confusion  ! 
As  one  might  expect  the  lawyer  extricates  himself  from  his 
difficulty,  enters  a  "  nolle  prosequi  "  against  further  proceed- 
ings in  that  direction,  and  stretches  himself  in  his  berth,  with- 
out attempting  to  persuade  his  wardrobe  to  take  separate 
lodgings. 

The  fur-trader  seems  determined  to  undress.  A'^^.ordingly, 
when  the  ship,  in  her  rollings,  is  nearly  right  side  up,  he 
attempts  to  take  off  his  coat ;  unfortunately,  however,  when  he 
has  thrown  it  so  far  back  as  to  confine  his  arms,  the  ship 
lurches  heavily,  and  piles  him  up  in  a  corner  of  the  cabin ! 
Odds-blood !  how  his  Scotch  under  jaw  smites  the  upper  !  It 
appears  that  wrath  usually  fights  its  battles  in  that  part  of 
mortality,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent.  On  this  occasion  our 
friend's  teeth  seem  to  have  been  ignited  and  his  eyes  set  blaz- 
ing by  the  concussion!  As,  however,  there  is  nothing  in 
particular  to  fight  but  the  sea,  and  Xerxes  has  used  up  the 
glory  of  that  warfare,  the  fur-dealer  takes  to  his  berth,  with- 
out further  demonstration  of  himself  than  to  say  that  he 
thinks  "  the  devil's  tail  is  whisking  in  the  storm,"  and  that 
"  his  oxfoot  majesty  and  the  fintailed  god  must  be  quarrel- 
ling stoutly  about  the  naiads."  ». 

But  the  professor  of  psalmody  is  not  to  be  prevented  by 
these  failures  from  unrobing  himself  for  the  embraces  of  Som- 
nus ;  not  he.  "  And  if  the  planks  of  the  ship  will  float  me 
long  enough  it  shall  be  done."  He  does  not  say  that  he  is 
on  his  way  to  the  conquest  of  the  Californias  j  and  that  he 
will  strip  himself  of  his  blue  roundabout,  as  he  will  that  beau- 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIAS. 


21 


k 


tiful  country  of  its  ill-fitting  tyranny.  His  berth  is  on  the 
starboard  side.  The  ship  is  pitching  and  dodging  Uke  a  spent 
top.  How  his  bravery  will  end  under  such  circumstances  is 
a  question  of  no  httic  interest.  But  that  something  will  soon 
be  done  you  perceive  becomes  evident ;  for  now  as  the  star- 
board side  lowers  on  the  retreating  wave,  he  seizes  his  outer 
garment  with  both  hands,  and  with  a  whistle  anrf ^ump  that 
would  do  credit  to  a  steam-car  off  the  track,  wrenches  him- 
self out  of  it  just  in  time  to  seize  the  edge  of  his  berth  as  the 
next  surge  strikes  the  ship  and  throws  it  suddenly  on  the 
other  side.  His  vest  comes  off  with  more  ease  and  less  dan- 
ger. Boots  too,  are  drawn  without  accident.  But  the 
pants !  they  are  tight !  He  loosens  the  buttons ;  slides  them 
down ;  with  one  hand  he  holds  fast  to  the  berth ;  pulls  off 
the  left  leg  with  the  other,  and  is  about  extricating  the  rjght 
foot,  but,  alas  !  that  sudden  jerk  of  the  ship  scatters  his  half- 
clad  person,  bravery,  pants  and  all,  among  the  trembling 
trunks,  stools,  table  legs,  &c.,  to  the  manifest  detriment  of 
the  outer  bark  of  his  limbs !  At  this  moment  Mr.  Simpson  is 
in  the  midst  of  his  favorite  passage — 

"  Ah  Tam,  ah  Tam,  thou  'It  get  thy  fairin', 
In  hell  they  '11  roast  thee  like  a  herin'." 

The  professor  of  psalmody,  after  some  search,  finds  himself 
again,  and  with  courage  unimpeached,  Hes  down  in  silence. 


F 


CHAPTER  II. 


The  next  Morning— Eating— Mermaids— Cupid— A  Sack  of  Bones  on  its 
Legs — Love— A  Grandsire— She  was  a  "Woman — Chickens — A  Black 
Son  o'  the  De'il — A  Crack  o'  the  Claymore — Sublimity — Tropical  Sight 
—Paternal  Star— Cook— A  Sense— Edge  of  the  Trades— A  Night— 
'*  On  Deck" — A  Guess — A  Lcok  and  Doubt — To  be  Dwmhfoundercd — A 
Bird  JSolC — Mauna-Kea — Christmas  Eve — Watch-Fires  of  Angels — 
Birds — Fish — Homestead  —  Hawaians  —  The  Land — Moratai — Moor- 
ing— Landing  at  Honolulu — A  Slice  of  Bull — Poi — The  Death  Wail 
— Hospitality— The  Lover  and  his  Destination — The  Fur  Hunter  on 
t^  Back  Track — The  Professor  of  Psalmody. 

The  next  morning  the  storm  was  unabated.  The  furies 
seemed  abroad.  It  was  a  cold  sleety  day.  Both  the  atmos- 
phere and  the  ocean  looked  like  maniacs.  Not  a  shred  of  the 
visible  world  seemed  at  ease  with  itself!  Commotion,  .per- 
petual growls,  screams  and  groans,  came  up  from  the  tem- 
pestuous deep !  Above  were  clouds,  hurrying  as  from  a  falling 
world  !    Below  was  the  ocean  shaking ! 

Eating  on  this  day  was  attended  to  in  a  very  slight  degree. 
When  the  dinner  bell  rang  we  were  all  on  deck,  standing  in 
utter  abandonment,  to  whatever  the  Fates  might  have  in 
reserve  for  us.  Not  one  would  have  broken  a  Christmas 
wish-bone  with  the  prettiest  girl  living,  to  decide  whether  we 
should  go  below  or  be  tumbled  overboard.  Captain  Duncan 
was  a  skilful  diagnostician  in  all  such  cases.  He  urged  us 
below.  But  the  thought  of  bringing  our  nasal  organs  into 
the  ful#  odor  of  bilge  water,  the  steam  of  smoking  meat, 
potatoes,  and  bean  soup,  arrested  our  steps.  The  good  Cap- 
tain, however,  pressed  us  with  renewed  kindness,  and  we 
dragged  ourselves  down  to  the  table.  Ye  Mermaids,  how 
could  ye  ever  learn  to  eat  at  sea !    How  could  ye,  rocked  to 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIPORNIAS. 


23 


1 


1 


sleep  in  infancy  by  the  biUows,  educated  in  the  school  of  the 
tempest,  learn  to  hold  your  heads  still  enough  to  comb  your 
glistening  tresses !  and  much  more  get  food  within  your  pearly 
grinders ! 

Pictures  of  woe  were  we,  starving,  yet  loathing  food ; 
thirsting,  yet  unable  to  drink ;  wishing  for  a  mote  of  the 
stable  world  to  look  upon,  yet  having  nothing  but  the  unsta- 
ble water  and  air  ;  imprisoned  on  the  rolling  deck,  with  no 
foothold  nor  any  odor  of  flower  or  earth  around.  I  am  re- 
minded here  how  interesting  to  the  antiquarian  would  be  the 
inquiry,  whether  or  not  Cupid  was  ever  at  sea  in  a  storm.  If 
he  were,  he  would  have  crowned  Hogarth's  immortality  with 
its  richest  wreath,  if  transferred  to  canvass,  in  the  act  of  run- 
ning from  the  dinner-table,  throwing  his  quiver  behind  him, 
and  tipping  his  roguish  face,  bloated  with  the  effort  of  a 
retching  stomach,  over  the  taflrail.  Poor  fellow,  it  makes  one 
quiver  to  think  if  there  ever  were  a  Cupid,  and  he  ever  took 
passage  from  the  Columbia  river  to  the  Hawaian  islands,  and 
ever  did  attempt  to  eat,  and  while  doing  so  were  obliged  to 
conform  to  the  etiquette  of  sea-sickness,  how  sadly  he  must 
have  suffered,  and  how  unlovely  the  arrow-god  must  have 
become !     '  # 

This  sea-sickness,  however,  is  a  farce  of  some  consequence. 
Like  the  toothache,  fever  and  ague,  and  other  kindred  foUies 

of  the  body,  it  has  its  origin  in the  Faculty  will  please 

answer  what.  But  seriously.  It  is  an  effort  of  our  nature  to 
assimilate  its  physical  condition  to  the  desires  of  the  mind. 
Man's  natural  home  as  an  animal  is  on  land.  As  an  intel- 
lectual being  he  seeks  to  pass  this  bound,  and  resorting  to  his 
capacity  to  press  the  powers  of  external  nature  into  the  service 
of  his  desires,  he  spikes  planks  to  timbers,  commits  himsfelf  to 
the  waves,  rocks  on  their  crests,  habituates  head  and  foot  to 
new  duties,  and,  girded  with  the  arrnor  of  his  immortal  part, 
that  wealth  of  Heaven,  goes  forth,  the  image  and  representa- 
tive of  his  Maker,  to  see,  to  know,  and  to  enjoy  all  things. 
But  a  truce  to  philosophy.    We  are  on  the  sea.   The  elements 


,  I 


: 


*  M 


If 


I 


•liii 


34 


SCENES       IN       Til  F.       P  A  ('  I  I'  I  C 


have  raved  twelve  days  and  are  at  rest  a|:5ain.  Quiet  and 
variable  breezes  from  the  north  pu.-.h  us  pleasantly  along ; 
appetites  return ;  we  shave  our  chins,  comb  our  hair,  and 
begin  once  more  to  wear  the  general  aspect  of  men. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  December  our  group  of  characters  was 
honored  by  the  appearance  of  a  fine  honest  fellow  from  the 
steera'T-e.  He  had  sulFered  so  much  from  sea-sickness,  that  he 
appeared  a  mere  sack  of  bones.  He  was  a  native  of  one  of 
the  southern  States ;  but  the  Yankee  spirit  must  have  been 
born  in  him ;  for  he  had  been  to  the  Californias  with  a  chest 
of  carpenter's  tools,  in  search  of  wealth !  Unfortunate  man  ! 
He  had  built  the  Commandante-General  a  house,  and  never 
was  paid  for  it ;  he  had  built  other  houses  with  like  conse- 
quences to  his  purse ;  had  made  many  thousands  of  red  cedar 
shingles  for  large  prices  and  no  pay ;  and  last  and  worst  of 
all,  had  made  love  for  two  years,  to  a  Spanish  brunette, 
obtained  her  plighted  faith  for  marriage,  and  did  not  marry 
her.  It  was  no  fault  of  his.  During  the  last  year  of  his 
wooing,  a  Californian  Cavaliero,  that  is,  a  pair"  of  mustachios 
on  horseback,  had  been  in  the  habit  of  eating  a  social  dish  of 
fried  beans  occasionally  with  the  father  of  the  girl,  and  by 
way  of  reciprocating  his  hospitality,  advanced  the  old  gentle- 
man to  the  dignity  of  a  grandsire. 

This  want  of.  fidelity  in  his  betrothed  wrought  sad  havoc 
in  our  countryman's  affections.  He  had  looked  with  confid- 
ing tenderness  on  her  person,  returned  her  smile,  and  given 
her  one  by  one  his  soul's  best  emotions.  Such  affections, 
when  they  go  forth  and  are  lost,  leave  a  void  to  which  they 
never  return.  He  was  alone  again  without  trust,  with 
nothing  on  earth,  or  rather  on  the  sea,  to  love  but  his  carpen- 
ter's tools.  The  object  of  his  regard  had  disgraced  herself  and 
him.  To  avoid  the  scene  of  his  misery,  he  had  invested  in 
horses  the  little  money  he  had  accumulated ;  accompanied  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Trading  Company  to  Oregon,  and  having  cul- 
tivated land  a  year  or  two  in  the  valley  of  the  Willamette, 


TRAVKLR      IN       THE      CALIF0RNIA8 


25 


i 


hail  sold  his  stock  and  other  property,  and  shipped  for  home, 
with  every  tooth  strung  with  curses  against  the  Califomian 
Spaniards. 

Calilornia  itself,  not  including  the  bodies  or  souls  of  its 
people,  he  thought  to  be  a  desirable  country.  The  very 
atmosphere  was  so  delicious  that  the  people  went  half  naked 
to  enjoy  it.  Hard  to  abandon  was  that  air,  and  the  great 
plains  and  mountains  covered  with  horses,  black  Spanish 
cattle,  and  wild  game.  The  fried  beans  too,  the  mussels  of 
the  shores,  and  the  fleas  even,  were  all  objects  of  pleasure, 
utility  or  industry,  of  which  he  entertained  a  vivid  recollection. 
But  that  loved  one  !  she  was  beautiful,  she  was  kind,  alas !  too 
kind.  He  loved  her,  she  was  wayward ;  but  was  still  the 
unworthy  keeper  of  his  heart ;  still  a  golden  remembrance  on 
the  wastes  of  the  past — lovely,  but  corroded  and  defiled. 
His  opinion  was  that  she  was  a  woman  ! 

The  weather  became  sensibly  milder  each  day  as  we  moved 
on  our  course ;  the  water  warmer,  the  fish  and  fowl  more 
abundant.  The  latter  presented  themselves  in  considerable 
variety.  The  white  and  grey  albatross,  with  their  long 
narrow  wings,  and  hoarse  unmusical  cry,  cut  through  the  air 
like  uneasy  spirits,  searching  the  surrounding  void  for  a 
place  of  rest,  and  finding  none !  Our  cook  contracted^  a 
paternal  regard  for  these  birds  ;  the  basis  of  which  was,  that 
whenever  he  threw  overboard  the  refuse  of  the  table,  they 
alighted  in  the  wake  of  the  ship,  and  ate  the  potatoe  peel- 
ings, bits  of  meat,  &c.,  with  a  keen  appetite.  "  Ah,"  said  he 
of  the  spit,  "  it  is  a  pleasure  to  cook  for  gentlemen  in  feathers 
even,  when  they  eat  as  if  they  loved  it."  But  he  was  still 
more  partial  to  Mother  Carey's  chickens.  In  a  fair  morning 
these  beautiful  birds  sat  on  the  quiet  sea  in  flocks  of  thou- 
sands, biUing  and  frolicking  in  great  apparent  happiness. 

"  There's  your  poultry,  gentlemen,"  cried  his  curly  pate, 
peering  from  the  galley.  "  Handsome  flocks  these  about  the 
stacks  of  water ;  plumper  and  fatter,  I'll  warrant  ye,  than  any 


26 


I 


\ 


111 


I 


I 


i:! 


i  I 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


that  ever  squawked  from  tlie  back  of  a  Yorkshire  Donke). 
No  ne«l  of  cramraing  there  to  k:q)  life  agoin'.  They  finds 
themselves  and  never  dies  with  pip  or  dyspepsy." 

"  Hout  wi'  yer  blaguard  pratm',  ye  black  son  of  the  De'il ; 
and  mind  ye's  no  burn  the  broo'  agen.  Ye're  speerin'  at  yer 
ugly  nose,  an'  ne'er  ken  the  eend  o'  yo  whilk  is  upward.  Ye 
sonsie  villain ;  when  I'se  need  o'  yer  clatter  I'se  fetch  ye  wi' 
a  rope's-end.  And  now  gang  in  and  see  yer  dinner  is  fit  for 
Christian  mooths." 

This  salutation  from  our  Scotch  mate,  drove  in  the  head  of 
our  poultry  man,  and  we  heard  no  more  dissertations  on  sea- 
fowl  during  the  voyage.  At  dinner  the  mate  congratulated 
the  company  on  the  excellence  of  the  pea-soup,  remarking 
that  it "  smacked  muir  o'  the  plaid  than  usual"  because  he 
"  had  gi'en  the  cook  a  crack  o'  the  claymor  on  his  bagpipe ; 
a  keekin,  as  he  war,  at  things  wi'out  when  he  should  ha'  been 
o'  stirrin  his  meal."  Trifling  incidents  like  this  occasionally 
broke  the  monotony  6f  our  weary  life.  Our  latitude  and  lon- 
gitude were  taken  daily  at  twelve  M.,  and  the  report  of  these, 
and  the  distance  from  the  islands  always  gave  rise  to  some 
prophetic  announcements  of  the  day  and  hour  when  we  should 
anchor  in  the  dominions  of  Kamehameha.  The  evenings  also 
furnished  a  few  diversions  and  pleasant  objects  of  contempla- 
tion. Bathing  was  one  of  the  former.  After  the  shadows  of 
night  had  set  in,  we  used  to  present  ourselves  at  the  main- 
stays, and  receive  as  much  of  the  Ocean  as  our  love  of  the 
sublime  by  the  gallon,  or  our  notions  of  cleanliness  demanded. 
And  when  the  hooting,  leaping  and  laughing  of  this  ceremo- 
ny were  silenced,  the  cool  comfort  of  the  body  left  the  mind 
in  listless  quietude,  or  to  its  wanderings  among  the  glories  of 
a  tropical  sky. 

It  was  the  24lh  of  December ;  the  mid-winter  hour.  But 
the  space  over  us  was  as  mild  and  soft  a  blue  as  ever  covered 
a  September  night  in  the  States.  The  stars  sent  down  a  deli- 
cate sprinkling  light  on  the  waters.  The  air  itself  presented 
some  peculiar  aspects.    It  was  more  nearly  transparent  than 


i 


I 


^•* 


TRAVELS       IN       THK      ('  A  1- I  K  O  11  N  I  A  S  . 


27 


any  I  had  ever  breathed  ;  and  there  seeme«l  to  be  woven  into 
all  its  thousand  eddies  a  tissue  of  golden  and  trembling  mist, 
streaming  down  from  the  depths  of  Heaven !  There  was  a 
single  sad  spot  on  the  scene.  The  north  star,  so  high 
and  brilliant  in  the  latitude  where  I  had  spent  my  previous 
yfears,  was  gradually  sinking  into  the  haze  about  the  horizon. 
I  had  in  very  early  life  looked  with  greater  interest  upon  that 
than  any  other  star.  The  little  house  which  my  deceased 
father  had  built  on  the  shore  of  a  beautiful  lake  among  the 
green  woods  of  Vermont,  stood  "  north  and  south"  upon  the 
authority  of  that  star.  And  after  he  had  died  at  that  humble 
outpost  of  the  settlements,  leaving  me  a  boy  of  nine  years,  his 
death-bed,  the  little  house,  and  the  star  whi(;h  had  guided  my 
parent's  hand  in  laying  its  foundation  on  the  brow  of  the  deep 
wilderness,  came  to  be  objects  of  the  tenderest  recollection. 
I  was  sorry  to  see  it  obscured  ;  for  it  always  burned  brightly 
in  our  woodland  home ;  and  was  the  only  thing^  which,  as 
years  rolled  on'  remained  associated  with  paternal  love. 

I  remember,  too,  another  class  of  emotions  that  gave  occu- 
pation to  my  heart  in  those  beautiful  nights.  We  thought  and 
talked  of  Cook.  He  had  ploughed  those  seas  long  before  us ; 
had  discovered  the  group  of  islands  to  which  our  voyage 
tended ;  had  met  a  fearful  death  at  the  hands  of  the  inhabit- 
ants ;  and  some  of  his  bones  yet  lay,  scraped  and  prepared  for 
the  gods,  in  the  deep  caverns  of  Hawaii !  The  waters  rip- 
pling at  our  ship's  side,  had  borne  him ;  had  rushed  in  tem- 
pests, and  lain  in  great  beauty  around  him ;  had  greeted  the 
discovery  flag  of  the  brave  old  Fatherland,  and  heard  its 
cannon  boom !  We  were  sailing  under  the  same  flag.  It 
was  not,  indeed,  the  same  identical  bunting  which  floated 
in  1789 ;  but  it  was  the  emblem  of  the  same  social  organiza- 
tion, of  the  same  broad  intelligence;  the  insignia  of  the 
same  Power,  whose  military  embattlements,  grain  fields  and 
homes,  gird  the  Earth !  I  was  glad  to  approach  the  Ha- 
waian  Islands  on  the  track  of  Cook,  under  the  old  British  flag. 

Is  there  a  human  sense  which  derives  its  nutriment  from  the 


1 


28 


SCENKS       IN       Tin:       PAl'lFIC 


things  which  are  gone  ?  Is  there  a  holy-flower  which  springs 
up  among  the  withered  tendrils  of  buried  beauty  1  a  strong 
and  vigorous  joy,  which,  like  the  Aloe,  blooms  a  moment  on 
the  cold  midnight  of  heavy  sorrow  ?  Is  there  an  elevation  of 
the  whole  being  into  a  higher  condition,  when  we  wander 
among  the  trees,  the  ruins  and  the  graves  of  former  times  1 
It  may  be  so.  For  surely  he  who  treads  the  dust  of  Rome 
and  stands  on  the  ruins  of  Thebes,  has  a  species  of  previous 
existence  wrapped  about  him.  He  sees  in  the  one  case  armies 
thronging  the  Appian-way,  hears  the  multitude  surging  in  the 
forum  under  the  enthusiasm  kindled  by  Cicero,  and  feels  that 
the  eagle  of  freedom  is  throwing  the  pinions  of  his  protection 
over  the  energies  of  man. 

In  the  other  case  he  hears  the  voice  of  a  mighty  chieftain 
summoning  his  millions  of  subservient  hands.  The  hammer 
and  the  chisel,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  day,  send  up 
theii*  vast  din  to  the  passing  hours.  The  mountain  columns 
of  Thebes  stand  up  in  the  presence  of  the  pyramids  !  And  a 
subject  land  bows  in  servitude  to  a  great  and  controlling  intel- 
lect. We  are  there,  and  form  an  integral  wave  in  the  sea  of 
vitality  that  flowed  forty  ages  ago  !  We  venerate  the  broken 
tomb  of  the  past.  We  knock  gently  at  its  gate,  and  find  our 
bodies  and  minds  grow  vigorous  and  happy  in  those  sublime 
imaginings,  which  carry  our  entire  selves  back  to  see  and  con- 
verse with  those  men,  the  mere  ruins  of  whose  deeds  still 
astonish  mankind  ! 

We  retired  to  rest  this  evening  in  unusually  fine  spirits ; 
for,  with  the  aid  of  the  good  breeze  piping  down  from  the 
northwest,  we  expected  sight  of  land  by  the  next  sunset. 
Our  sleep,  however,  was  not  remarkably  deep,  for  I  recollect 
that  the  wind  freshened  during  the  night,  as  it  generally  does 
in  the  edge  of  the  trades,  and  compelled  the  morning-watch 
to  take  in  sail.  The  noise  occasioned  by  this  mo^eraent  was 
construed,  by  the  wakeful  ear  of  our  desires,  into  a  shortening 
of  canvass  to  prevent  running  on  the  land  ;  and  we  turned  out 
to  see  it.    But  it  was  yet  beyond  view.     The  night,  however. 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CAI.  IFORNIAS 


29 


•       \ 


tvas  worth  beholding.  It  was  one  o'clock ;  the  sky  overhead 
was  clear  and  starry  ;  around  the  northwestern  horizon  hung 
a  cluster  of  swollen  clouds,  like  Moorish  towers,  faintly  tip- 
ped with  the  dim  light.  In  the  southwest  lay  another  mass, 
piled  in  silent  grandeur,  dark  and  battlement-like,  as  if  it 
were  the  citadel  of  the  seas !  The  waters  were  in  an  easy 
mood.  The  ship  moved  through  them  evenly,  save  that  she  cut 
the  long  smooth  swells  more  deeply  than  the  spaces  between 
them,  and  occasionally  started  from  his  slumber  a  porpoise  or 
a  whale. 

We  curned-in  again  and  slept  till  the  breakfast  dishes  clat- 
tered on  the  table,  and  Tom  informed  us  that  Mr.  Newell  sup- 
posed he  had  seen  at  sunrise  the  looming  of  land  in  the  south- 
east !  That  announcement  brought  us  to  our  feet ;  sleep 
gave  place  to  the  most  active  efforts  at  hauling  on  and  but- 
toning up  the  various  articles  of  our  wardrobe.  "  On  deck  ! 
on  deck !  where  away  the  land  ?"  and  we  tasked  our  eyes 
with  their  utmost  effort  to  scan  the  nature  of  the  dark  em- 
bankment on  which  the  mate  had  founded  his  auguries.  The 
excitement  at  length  drew  all  the  passengers  and  the  officers 
to  the  starboard-quarter ;  each  man  looked  and  expressed 
himself  in  his  own  way.  To  guess,  was  the  Yankee's  part ; 
to  look  and  doubt,  was  John  Bull's  pleasure;  to  wuss  it 
might  be  true,  was  the  Scotch  contribution ;  and  to  reckon 
awhile  and  commend  himself  to  be  dumbfoundered  if  anything 
could  be  known  about  it,  was  the  Carolinian  carpenter's 
clincher.  The  matter  left  standing  thus,  we  obeyed  Tom's 
summons  to  breakfast. 

While  engaged  in  filling  our  countenances  with  the  reali- 
ties of  life,  we  were  startled  with  a  bird's  note  from  the  deck ! 
It  proved  to  come  from  one  of  those  winged  songsters  of  the 
islands,  which  often  greet  the  toiling  ship  far  at  sea,  and  with 
their  sweet  voices  recall  to  the  soul,  weary  with  the  rough 
monotony  of  an  unnatwal  life,  the  remembrance  and  antici- 
pation of  the  land ;  the  green  and  beautiful  land ;  where  the 
glorious  light  brightens  the  flowers ;  where  the  flowers  shed 
3* 


30 


SCENES       IN       T  II  i:      PACIFIC 


'  ' 


' 


their  perfume  on  the  air,  and  the  i'ruits  of  trees,  and  shrubs, 
and  plants,  are  poured  into  the  lap  of  the  ripened  year. 

Who  does  not  love  the  birds  ?  who  is  not  made  better  and 
happier  by  hearing  them  sing  among  the  buds  and  leaves, 
when  the  streams  begin  to  babble,  and  the  mosses  to  peer 
above  the  retiring  snows ;  when  the  violet  opens,  and  mea- 
dows and  forests  change  the  brown  garb  of  winter  for  the 
green  mantle  of  the  young  year  ?  No  one  who  loves  nature 
and  can  sympathize  with  it. 

But  this  one — perched  in  the  rigging  of  the  ship  in  which 
we  had  been  imprisoned  for  weeks — a  messenger  from  the 
glens  and  hills  sweetly  chanting  our  welcome  tS  them,  was 
an  object  of  the  tenderest  interest.  It  had  the  cordial  greet- 
ing of  our  hearts ;  and  while  talking  about  it,  we  could  not 
forbear  reaching  our  hands  toward  it,  and  grieving  that  we 
had  no  intelligible  language  wherewith  to  convey  our  saluta- 
tions, and  ask  the  tidings  from  its  beautiful  home.  The  cap- 
tain consulted  his  reckoning,  and  tbund  that  we  lay  about  one 
hundred  miles  northwest-by-north  from  the  island  of  Hawaii. 

The  breeze,  instead  of  decreasing  with  the  ascent  of  the 
sun,  as  it  had  done  for  a  mimbe-  of  days  past,  held  on ;  and 
with  all  the  weather  studding-sails  out,  we  made  about  ten 
knots  during  most  of  the  morning.  About  ten  o'clock,  Mr. 
Newell,  who  had  been  watching  that  embankment  of  cloud  in 
the  southwest,  which  had  excited  our  hopes  at  sunrise,  touched 
his  hat  to  Captain  Duncan  and  remarked,  "  That  cloud  retains 
its  bearing  and  shape  very  much  like  th  ;3  looming  of  land,  sir. 
We  must  be  in  sight  of  some  of  the  islands :  we  made  ten 
knots  by  the  log,  sir,  during  my  watch." 

The  captain  had  exprtased  his  belief  that  he  could  sail  his 
ship  under  that  cloud  without  lead  line,  or  copper  bottom  j  and 
it  was  still  his  opinion  that  an  English  commander  like  him- 
self, an  old  salt  of  thirty  years'  standing,  would  be  as  likely 
to  know  the  complexion  of  the  land  as  any  gentleman  with  less 
exnerienced  optics.  However,  he  sent  Tom  for  his  glass  and 
peered  into  it  with  the  keenest  search.    It  was  delightful, 


k 


^ 


TUAVKL8      IN       THK      CALIFORNIA  8. 


31 


ay 


\i. 


raeantimc,  to  us  land-lubbers,  to  watch  the  workings  of  his 
face.*  There  was  a  gleam  of  triumph  creeping  over  it  as  he 
first  brought  his  glass  to  bear  upon  the  object.  But  as  the 
highest  part  of  the  pile  came  into  the  field  of  vision,  his 
cheeks  dropped  an  instant,  then  curled  into  the  well-known 
lineaments  of  chagrin,  and  then  into  those  of  rage,  as  if  he 
would  rather  all  the  land  were  sunk,  than  he  be  found  mis- 
taken in  a  matter  so  purely  professional. 

"  Damn  the  land  !"  he  at  length  exclaimed ;  "  I  suppose 
it  must  be  Mauna-Kea,"  and  gave  the  glass  to  a  passenger. 

The  breeze  piped  up  and  we  moved  on  merrily.  Merrily 
flew  the  gladdening  waters  from  the  prow ;  steadily  as  the 
masts  stood  out  the  canvass  on  the  clear  blue  sky;  and 
brightly  beamed  the  warm  and  mellow  day  on  the  sea.  The 
Scotch  mate,  who  swore  by  any  dozen  of  things  that  his 
memory  happened  to  seize,  affirmed  by  his  blood  and  the 
whiskey  that  had  been  buried  seven  comfortable  years  at  his 
auld  aunt's  homestead,  that  he  would  see  the  lassies  of  Hono- 
lulu before  he  was  a  day  older ;  the  professor  of  psalmody 
sung,  "  Here's  a  health  to  thee,  Tom  Moore  ;"  the  Hawaian 
Island  servants  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  began  to  count 
their  money  preparatory  to  the  purchase  of  poi  j  the  crew 
began  to  tell  yarns  about  "  sprees"  they  had  erijoyed  in  Chili, 
New  Holland,  Liverp^jol,  Vera  Cruz,  St.  Petersburgh  and 
Montevideo  ;  the  six  foot  boatswain  began  to  whistle ;  Tom 
began  to  grin ;  a  former  cabin-boy  began  to  think  of  his 
mother,  whom  he  expected  to  meet  in  the  islands :  the  visitor 
bird  chirped  in  the  rigging ;  and  all  for  joy  !  For  now  the 
lofty  peaks  of  Hawaii  loomed  above  the  clouds,  the  seaweed 
gathered  on  the  prow,  and  the  odor  of  the  land  puffed 
over  us. 

At  five  o'clock  the  breeze  slackened  again,  and  until  night- 
fall the  ship  barely  moved  enough  to  obey  her  helm.  Near 
ten  in  the  evening  it  freshened,  but  as  we  were  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  a  lee-shore,  the  captain  thought  it  prudent,  to  keep 


• 


i 


,1 
r 


W 


32 


S  C  K  N  E  S      IN       T  H  K       P  A  (M  F  I  C  , 


go<v.l  soa-room,  and  accordingly  shortened  sail  and  lay  off  a 
pari  of  tiic  night.  * 

This  was  Christinas  eve,  that  nucleus  of  so  much  social  and 
religious  joy  throughout  the  Christian  world,  and  a  merry  one 
it  was  to  us.  Not  so  in  the  orihiiary  sense  of  the  trencher  and 
cup,  the  music,  dance  and  the  embrace  of  kindred  ;  nor  ren- 
dered such  by  the  pealing  anthem  or  the  solemn  prayer,  swell- 
ing up  through  the  lofty  arches  hung  with  boughs  ol  ever- 
green and  the  prophetic  star  of  Bethlehem !  But  nature  her- 
self seemed  worshipping !  The  heavens  were  unmarred  by  a 
single  breath  of  mist,  except  what  rested  upon  the  heights  of 
Hawaii ;  and  on  all  its  vault  the  stars  shone,  not  as  brightly 
as  in  the  frosty  skies  of  the  temperate  zones,  but  with  a  quiet 
subdued  lustr«,  as  if  they  were  the  watch-fires  of  angels 
assembled  to  celebrate  the  earth's  great  jubilee. 

The  Pacific,  too,  lent  the  scene  its  most  charming  condition. 
Wide  and  gently  curved  swells  rolled  down  from  the  north, 
smooth,  and  noiseless,  except  when  they  dashed  upon  our  no- 
ble ship,  or  were  broken  by  the  dolphin  coursing  through  and 
dotting  them  with  phosphorescent  light !  The  sea-birds  were 
hailing  each  other  a  merry  Christmas.  The  grey  and  mottled 
albatross,  ilying  from  billow  to  billow,  occasionally  clipped  the 
waves  with  his  sword-shaped  wings,  and  shouted  gladly  to  the 
elements !  The  gulls  and  other  birds  sat  in  countless  flocks 
in  every  direction,  sinking,  risin^»;  and  chattering  on  the  pant- 
ing sea!  And  schools  of  tiny  fish  with  bright  golden  backs 
swam  by  the  side  of  the  ship,  as  children,  after  long  absence, 
gather  with  cherished  rerjsr^brances  around  the  old  home- 
stead on  this  blessed  night ! 

At  dawn  on  the  25th  one  of  the  islands  lay  sx  miles  dis- 
tant in  the  southeast.  1  he  sky  was  clear ;  the  sea  smooth ; 
the  porpoises  blowing  about  us ;  a  right  whale  was  spouti  "g 
a  hundred  rods  astern  ;  and  our  Hawaians,  looking  from  the 
mainstays  at  the  land,  were  uttering  their  beautiful  language 
of  vowels  with  great  volubility.  Poi  (the  name  (<f  theiv 
national  dish),  wyhini  (woman),  and  iri  (chief),  were  the 


^. 


«i^ 


I 


T  U  A  V  I',  l.S 


I  N 


T  U  r.       (•  A  I,  I  I'  ()  U  N  I  A  S  . 


33 


f 


only  words  I  thon  uruler.st()0(l ;  and  tlu-se  occurred  very  often 
in  their  iininuiled  dial()|riies.  Poor  lellows  !  they  had  heen 
five  years  al)sent  from  their /joi;  five  years  separated  from 
the  brown  beauties  of  their  native  Isles  ;  five  years  away  from 
tlieir  venerated  sovereign.  No  wonder,  therefore,  they  were 
charmed  with  the  dim  outline  of  their  native  land !  A  mass 
of  vapor  hun^'  alonu^  its  heifi;hts  and  concealed  them  from 
view,  save  here  and  there  a  volcanic  spire  which  stood  out  on 
the  sky  overlooking;  clou<l,  mountain,  and  sea.  As  the  light 
increased  to  full  day,  this  cloudy  mass  was  fringed  on  the 
edge  nearest  us  with  delicate  golden  hues;  but  underneath  it 
and  inward  toward  the  clifls,  th(!  undisturbed  darkness  reached 
far  eastward,  a  line  of  night  belting  the  mountains  mid- 
heaven.  Downward  from  this  line  to  the  sea,  sloped  red 
mountains  of  old  lava,  on  vvl^h  no  vegetable  life  appeared. 
On  a  few  little  plains  near  the  beach  lue  cocoa  tree  sent  up 
its  bare  shaft ;  and  as  the  clouds  broke  away  we  discerned 
clumps  of  rich  foliage  on  the  heights.  But  generally  the 
aspect  was  that  of  a  dreary  broken  desert. 

We  sailed  past  the,  western  cape  of  Moratai,  and  laid  our 
course  lor  the  southeastern  part  of  Oahu.  At  two  o'clock 
our  good  old  ship  lay  becalmed  under  the  lofty  piles  of  extinct 
craters,  six  miles  northeast  of  Honolulu.  At  four  the  breeze 
freshened,  and  bore  us  down  abreast  of  the  town.  Soon  after 
a  boat  carae  rapidly  from  the  shore  with  a  pilot  on  board  by  the 
name  ot  Fieynolds ;  a  generous,  jolly  old  American  gentleman, 
of  long  residence  in  the  islands.  He  greeted  his  countrymen 
with  f;reat  kindness,  and  having  brought  the  ship  to  anchor 
outside  the  reef,  invited  us  to  go  ashore  in  his  boat.  It  was 
manned  with  islanders.  They  rowed  to  the  entrance  of  the 
channel,  rested  on  their  oars  while  the  angry  swells  lifted 
us  at  one  instant  on  the  summit  of  the  waters  and  at  another 
dropped  us  into  the  chasm  between  them,  till  the  third  and 
largest  came,  when,  by  a  quick  and  energetic  movement,  they 
threw  the  boat  upon  the  land  side  of  it,  and  shot  us  into  the 
harbor  with  the  rapidity  of  the  wind  !  We  passed  the  Ameri- 
can whalers  which  crowded  the  anchorage ;  ran  under  the 


34 


s  (;  K  N  t;  s     r  N     t  u  r.     pacific 


guns  of  Iho  fort;  struck  tlio  luii(lin<>;  at  the  pi'. r ;  leaped 
ashore  among  crowds  ol  natives,  besprinkled  with  an  occa- 
sional European  face  :  followed  an  overgrown  son  of  John 
Bull  to  auuther  man's  house,  took  a  glass  of  wine,  and  scat- 
tered ourselves  to  various  (]uarlers  for  the  night. 

Thus  terminated  our  voyage  from  the  Columbia  river  to 
the  Kingdom  of  Hawaii.  The  distance  between  Oregon  and 
these  islands  is  about  three  thousand  miles.  We  had  sailed  it 
in  twenty-one  days. 

The  next  morning  the  Vancouver  entered  the  harbor  with 
the  land-breeze,  and  anchore<l  near  the  pier.  The  "  steerage" 
and  the  Hawaians  now  came  on  shore.  The  former  settled  his 
hat  over  his  eyes  and  sought  a  barber's  shop;  ihe  latter 
repaired  to  the  (own  with  their  friends.  1  followed  them. 
Whenever  they  met  an  old  ^-quaintance  tluy  immediately 
embraced  him,  and  pressed  jioses  together  at  the  sides.  After 
many  salutations  of  this  kind  they  arrived  at  the  market- 
place; made  a  purchase  of  pot  (a  fermented  paste  of  bo  !  ^^ 
taro),  and  seated  themselves  with  their  friends  around  it. 
The  poi  was  contained  in  large  calabashes  or  gourdshells. 
With  these  in  the  midst  they  began  to  eat  and  recall  the  inci- 
dents of  pleasure  ^^  Inch  had  sweetened  their  early  years. 

Their  mode  of  conveying  the  pn  to  their  mouths  is  quite 
primitive.  The  fore  and  middle  fingers  served  instead  of  a 
spoon.  These  they  inserted  to  the  depth  of  the  knuckles,  and 
having  raised  as  much  as  would  lie  upon  them,  and  by  a  very 
dexterous  whirl  brought  it  into  a  globular  shape  upon  the 
tips,  they  thrust  it  into  their  mouths,  and  licked  the  fingers 
clean  for  another  essay.  They  had  been  seated  but  a  short 
time  when  others  joined  them,  who  brought  sad  news.  One 
of  their  former  friends  had  recently  died  !  On  hearing  this 
their  hands  dropped,  and  the  dreadful  wail  ewai  burst  from 
every  mouth,  as  they  rose  and  went  toward  the  hut  \r  '  hich 
the  dead  body  lay.  It  was  situated  a  short  distance  from  the 
hotel ;  and  during  the  night  1  he  ird  that  wail  ring  through 
the  silent  town  !    A  more  painful  expression  of  sorrow  I  hope 


i 


it 

I 


r  n  A  V  K,  I,  S      IN       T  U  K      r  A  I,  1  F  O  n  N  I  A  R  . 


35 


never  to  hear.  The  next  morning  I  went  to  the  liurial.  The 
wail  was  suspended  during  tlie  ceremonies ;  hut  lor  several 
sui'-ceeding  nights  it  continued  to  break  my  slumbers.  A  few 
days  afterward  I  saw  them  gathered  again  near  the  market- 
place employed  with  their  pot.  Th(?  wajM'S  of  five  years' 
service  were  nearly  exhausted.  They  had  given  a  large  por- 
tion to  the  chief  of  their  district,  and  spent  the  rest  in  teasfmg 
an»l  clothing  their  poor  relatives.  They  were  poor  when  I 
lost  sight  of  them.  '?ut  those  whom  they  had  ted  were  shar- 
ing their  pittance  with  them.  The  most  airectionate  and 
hospitable  people  on  earth  are  these  Hawaians. 

Our  Carolinian  remained  a  few  days  at  Honolulu,  and  took 
passage  in  one  of  P.  J.  Farnham  &  Co.'s  ships  for  New  York 
He  insisted  to  the  very  last  of  my  intercourse  with  him,  that 
his  Californian  brunette  was  a  woman  ! 

Mr.  Simpson  took  lodgings  with  that  distinguished  slice  of 
a  John  Bull  to  which  I  have  already  referred.  He  employed 
himself  with  much  industry  upon  his  duties  of  settling  accounts 
with  his  host,  who,  as  the  agent  of  the  Company,  had  sold 
the  lumber,  fish,  &c.,  exported  from  Oregon  to  these  islands. 
After  tarrying  a  month  at  Honolulu,  he  retiirned  in  the  Van- 
couver to  Columbia  river.  He  was  a  fine  fellow,  full  of 
anecdote  and  social  feeling,  talented  and  modest ;  and  I 
doubt  not  will  eventually  rise  to  the  highest  rank  in  the  Com- 
pany's service. 

The  professor  of  psalmody  stopped  at  the  hotel  and  prepared 
to  exhibit  himself.  His  first  essay  was  to  deliver  to  the 
American  missionaries  anc^  others,  certain  letters  which  he  had 
obtained  in  Oregon.  His  next  was  to  awaken  tne  genius  of 
music.  For  this  purpose  he  attended  a  number  of  singing 
parties,  at  which  he  attempted  to  render  himself  useful  to 
three  young  Americans,  who  sang  with  masterly  taste.  In 
the  opinion  of  the  professor  they  "  needed  a  little  burnishing," 
which  he  volunteered  to  give  them.  Unfortunately  for  the 
art,  however,  they  were  vain  enough  to  suppose  they  had 
lea'"ned  music  before  his  arrival  :   pnd  did  not  thereforp  vahie 


r 


36 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


his  suggestions  so  highly  as  he  himself  did.     But  the  professor 
persevered.     His  forbearance  knew  no   limit  towards   the 
deluded  tyros.     On  all  public  occasions  he  never  failed  to 
throw  out  many  invaluable  hints  as  to  movement,  accent,  and 
style  generally.     He  even  encouraged  them  to  hope  that,  with 
all  their  imperfections,  they  might  attain  a  respectable  degree 
of  excellence  if  they  would  attend  to  his  instructions.    Whether 
or  not  his  exertions  were  ever  properly  appreciated  by  these 
gentlemen  is  a  question  which  remains  unsettled  to  this  day. 
But  the  most  interesting  event  which  occurred  to  the  professor 
in  Honolulu  was  his  interview  with  the  sister  of  the  young 
lady  whom  he  had  forsaken.     She  was  the  wife  of  a  mis- 
sionary, a  ze&lous  servant  of  her  Master.     He  called  on  her 
and  was  invited  to  remain  to  tea.     I  was  present.     Every- 
thing was  sad  as  the  grave !    The  mercies  of  Heaven  were 
implored  <  v^^  Hs  blighted  conscience !    He  left,  little  hap- 
pier for  the  nisccnces  awakened  by  the  visit,  and  soon 
after  saUed  for  iJalifornia.    I  heard  of  him  as  an  ingenious 
man  in  mending  a  watch  on  shipboard,  but  never  as  one  of 
moral  integrity  or  as  the  Napoleon  of  the  Californias  ! 


'% 


CHAPTER  III. 


4 


Hawaian  Islands— Spaniards  first  visited  thera-HoopiU  Wyhini— Ac- 
count of  Cook's  Visit-A  god— A  Robber  and  his  Death- Vancouver's 
Visit-Kamehameha  I.-A  Treaty-Cattle-Origin  of  the  Islands- 
Poetry,  and  another  Book— Legends— Tb^jt-Philosophy  of  Civilisa- 
tion-A  Way  to  the  End-What  is  Taught-Gratitude— Departure 
from  the  Islands— Lava  and  Cauldrons— Goats  and  Men— Passengers- 
Captain,  Mates  and  Crew— A  Human  Menagerie— Northing— Varia- 
bles—Ten  days  out— Too  nauseous  for  Music— Uncombed  hair— Ex- 
hilarated—Lovely— Growing  Fat— Ten  Knots— Ten  more  days  out— 
An  Ocean  Don— American  and  English  Tars— A  Squall— A  new 
mode  of  taking  Eels— l^and  ho— Mission— Wrath— Monterey. 

Tffls  group  of  islands  was  first  visited  by  a  Spanish  ship, 
during  the  early  explorations  of  the  northwest  coast  of 
America,  by  Admirals  Otondo,  Viscaiyno,  and  others.  The 
traditions  of  the  natives  say,  that  a  small  vessel  was  driven 
ashore  on  the  southern  coast  of  Hawaii,  that  two  of  the  crew 
only  escaped  death  among  the  breakers,  and  that  these  inter- 
married with  the  natives  and  left  children.  I  saw  some  descend- 
ants of  these  men.  Their  European  features  and  the  use  of 
a  few  corrupted  Spanish  words,  satisfied  me  of  the  truth  of  the 
legend  and  the  ship's  nationality. 

Captain  Cook  next  visited  them  in  1779.  The  circum- 
stances of  his  visit  and  massacre,  as  given  me  by  a  very  aged 
chieftainess,  Hoopili  Wyhini,  will  interest  the  reader. 

"Captain  Cook's  men  were  allowed  to  steal  a  canoe 
belonging  to  our  people.  Our  chiefs  asked  that  it  might  be 
returned ;  but  Captain  Cook  had  made  us  believe  that  he  was 
a  god,  and  thought  to  take  what  he  pleased.  Our  traditions 
asserted  that  gods  would  not  rob,  and  we  told  him  so.     But 


/ 


38 


SCENES       r  N       THE      PACIFIC, 


-l-- 


the  canoe  wa"^  not  restored.  Our  people  thought,  therefore^ 
if  Cook  would  steal  fVom  them,  it  would  be  right  to  steal  from 
him ;  so  in  the  night  time,  they  swam  under  water  a  long  dis- 
tance to  the  ships,  loosened  a  boat  from  one  of  them,  and 
having  brought  it  ashore,  broke  it  in  pieces  for  the  nails.  Cook 
was  very  much  enraged  at  the  loss  of  his  boat,  and  threatened 
us  with  destruction  if  it  were  not  retui'ned.  But  it  could  not 
be ;  it  was  destroyed. 

"  A  number  of  days  passed  in  very  angry  intercourse 
between  our  people  and  the  foreigners,  during  which  a  chief 
suggested  that  so  imjust  a  being  could  not  be  a  god.  But  all 
others  said  he  was  the  great  Kono.  This  was  in  our  days  of 
darkness.  Why  do  you  press  me  to  remember  such  un- 
pleasant things  ?" 

I  explained  that  I  was  anxious  to  know  the  truth  of 
the  matter,  and  she  continued  : 

"  At  length  Cook  came  on  shore  with  an  armed  force,  and 
went  to  the  king's  house  to  persuade  him  to  go  on  board  his 
ship.  The  chiefs  interfered  and  prevented  him.  Cook  was 
angry,  and  the  people  were  in  a  great  rage.  He  went  down 
to  the  shore  where  his  boat  lay.  The  people  gathered  around 
him.  The  chief  who  did  not  believe  him  a  god,  tried 
to  kill  Cook,  but  Cook  killed  him  ;  and  tlien  the  people  who 
belonged  to  that  chief,  killed  Cook.  It  thus  became  clear 
that  Cook  was  no  god ;  for  we  thought  our  old  gods  could 
not  die.  These  were  our  years  of  sin,  before  the  Pono 
(Gospel)  came  among  us  ;  and  it  is  not  pleasant  to  speak  of 
them." 

This  venerable  chieftainess  was  advanced  in  womanhood  at 
the  time  of  Vancouver's  visit,  in  1779.  She  gave  the  following 
account  of  it. 

"  When  Vancouver  arrived  at  Hawaii,  Kamehameha  was 
the  chief  of  three  districts  on  that  island.  These  were  Kona, 
Kohala,  and  Hamakua.  That  year  he  fought  against  the 
reigning  king,  and  conquered  the  whole  island.  Kameha- 
meha did  not  see  Vancouver  at  Kona,  where  he  first  anchored. 


t 


T  R  A  V  F,  L  S       I  N        T  IT  K       .   A  I,  I  F  O  R  N  I  A  S  , 


39 


/    i  \ 


But  a  little  after  the  time  of  our  nutlonal  holidays,  which 
occurred  in  the  latter  part  of  the  Ciuistians'  December,  he 
came  to  Kealukekua  Bay.  There  I  first  saw  him.  Karaeha- 
raeha  also  visited  him  at  that  place.  The  flag-ship,  brig  and 
store-ship,  appeared  to  be  under  the  general  command  of  a 
man,  whom  we  called  Puk(3ki ;  the  captain  of  the  store-ship 
we  called  Hapilinu. 

"While  this  squadron  remained  in  the  bay,  myself  and 
thirteen  others  went  aboard.  They  were  Kamehameha,  his 
three  brothers  and  one  sister,  myself,  my  aunt,  and  two  other 
women.  The  remainder  were  chief  men.  After  being  at 
sea  four  days,  we  anchored  in  Kealukekua  Bay,  in  which 
Cook  was  killed. 

"  Kamehameha  was  very  friendly  to  Vancouver — according 
to  our  old  rules  of  hospitality,  he  furnished  him  with  a  concu- 
bine. He  gave  me  to  him.  I  passed  nine  days  on  board  his 
ship.  Kamehameha  presented  to  him  a  great  many  hogs  and 
bananas,  and  received  trifling  presents  of  old  iron  in  return. 
At  the  end  of  nine  days  I  left  the  ship,  in  company  with  some 
other  chiefs,  to  visit  my  sick  brother,  and  did  not  return. 

"  On  another  occasion,  Kamehameha,  his  chiefs,  and  two 
Englishmen,  who  had  been  adopted  by  some  old  chiefs,  and 
made  a  part  of  the  king's  counsel,  named  John  Young  and 
Isaac  Davis,  w^ere  passing  the  day  on  board  the  flag-ship, 
when  Kamehameha  addressed  to  Vancouver  these  words: 
*  E  nana  mai  ea  u,  eia  ka  aina,'  which  being  interpreted, 
means, '  Look  after  us,  and  if  we  are  injured,  protect  us.'  To 
this  Vancouver  assented.  An  instrument  in  writing,  which  he 
said  would  bind  his  sovereign  to  keep  the  promise  he  had 
made,  was  framed  and  presented  to  the  king.  I  do  not 
know  whether  Kamehameha  understood  what  was  written ; 
nor  do  I  know  whether  or  not  the  king  signed  it.  But  until 
the  French  captain.  La  Place,  came,  and  abused  us,  we 
thought  the  English  would  protect  us ;  because  Vancouver 
promised  to  do  so,  Kamehameha  always  said  the  English 
were  our  friends — that  the  islands  were  his,  and  that  these 


40 


» <;  K  N  r,  s     IN     T  H  V.     V  A  (;  1  k  i  <; 


friends  would  keep  off  all  danger  from  abroad.  It  is  not  clear 
to  ine  that  they  have  been  faithful  to  the  words  of  Van- 
couver. 

"  Vancouver  built  a  tent  and  high  tower  on  shore.  In  the 
former  he  sometimes  slept.  In  the  latter  his  learned  men 
pointed  bright  instruments  at  the  moon  and  stars.  A  doctor, 
whom  we  called  Makaua,  visited  the  volcano.  He  had  sore 
lips  when  he  returned.  He  brought  down  some  sulphur,  salt- 
petre, and  lava. 

"  Vancouver  gave  me  two  fathoms  of  red  broadcloth.  To 
the  king  and  chiei's  he  also  gave  some  of  ihe  same.  He  said 
the  king  of  England  sent  it  to  us.  I  had  two  husbands 
at  this  (imo.  The  one  was  Kalanimamahu,  the  son  of  Keona, 
and  the  other  Hoopili,  the  late  governor  of  Maui.  The  first 
was  the  father  of  Queen  Auhea ;  the  latter  is  buried  among 
the  people  near  the  church.     Those  were  days  of  darkness. 

"  Vancouver  gave  to  Kamehameha  four  cattle,  three  cows 
and  one  bull.  He  said  to  Kamehameha,  '  feed  them  five 
years,  and  then  begin  to  kill  and  eat.'  They  were  shut  up  in 
a  field  several  years,  but  broke  out  one  after  another,  and 
went  to  the  moiuitains.  Very  few  were  killed  for  thirty 
years.  During  the  last  ten,  many  have  been  slaughtered  for 
their  hides  and  tallow.  Vancouver  killed  one  of  the  calves 
before  he  left  us.     They  were  brought  from  California. 

"  Vancouver  had  an  interpreter  whom  our  people  called 
Lehua ;  and  another  who  was  a  native  chief  in  the  island  of 
Taui.  This  latter  had  made  a  voyage  in  an  English  whale- 
ship,  during  which  he  had  learned  the  language  of  that 
nation.  By  means  of  these  men,  he  asked  questions,  and  re- 
ceived answers  in  regard  to  our  old  ways.  Once  he  asked 
'  whence  came  these  islands  V  and  our  chiefs  replied — '  Ha- 
waii is  the  child  of  the  gods  Papa  and  Wakea,  and  the  other 
islands  are  the  children  of  Hawaii.' 

"  The  chief  priests  then  said  Hawaii  was  in  a  very  soft  state 
immediately  after  birth,  but  a  god  descended  from  the  skies 
and  called  — *  E  Hawaii  Ea,  0  Hawaii  Oh,'  and  the  god 


1 


'. 


T  »  A  V  K  I,  S       1   N        T  II  K       r  A  I,  I  K  ()  U  N  I  A  8 . 


41 


1 


'if 


1 


Hawaii  came  I'ortli,  cominunicated  to  the  pulpy  land  a  gyra- 
tory motion,  nuulf  it  coint*  around  him,  and  assume  a  perma- 
nent lonn.     Vancouver  replied,  '  rij^ht.' 

"  1  am  sixty-five  years  ol*!  and  must  die  soon." 

I  was  exceedingly  interested  in  thes(;  conversations  with 
this  remarkable  woman.  She  had  been  one  of  the  wives  of 
Kamehameha  the  First;  had  eonimanded  his  navy  of  war- 
canoes,  durino-  his  con(|uests,  and  wiis  at  the  time  of  my  inter- 
view with  her  the  aclinu;  exe(;ulive  of  Maui,  and  a  scholar 
in  the  missionary  Sabbath  school ! 

I  remained  three  months  in  these  beautiful  islands,  enjoying 
the  revelations  of  these  chroniclers  of  old  and  curious  times. 
The  kinij;,  chiei's,  lbr(;i<j;n  residents  and  missionaries,  perceiving 
my  avidity  in  gatherin;^  inibrraation  respecting  the  country 
and  its  pciople,  rendered  me  every  aid  in  their  power  to  facili- 
tate my  inquiries.  Nor  do  I  ever  (jxpect  again  to  find  a  richer 
field  of  the  strange,  the  ^eautilul,  the  wonderful  and  the  sub- 
lime, than  was  there  presented  to  me. 

The  legends  of  a  thousand  generations  of  men,  living  apart 
from  the  rest  of  mankind,  among  the  girding  depths  of  the 
Pacific  seas ;  the  stories  of  their  gods  and  goddesses ;  the 
tales  of  their  wars ;  the  fate  of  bad  princes  whom  their  deities 
reprimanded  from  the  skies ;  the  l)eatification  of  the  good  on 
whom  their  divinities  scattered  blessings ;  ♦heir  forms  of  gov- 
ernment ;  their  religious  ceremonies ;  their  genealogies  ;  their 
poetry,  more  of  it  than  Greece  ever  had,  and  still  sung  by 
bards  travelling  from  village  to  village ;  their  dances  ;  their 
rejoicings  at  a  birth ;  their  wailings  over  the  dead,  and  the 
solemn  ceremonies  of  their  burials  j  are  a  few  of  the  interest- 
ing subjects  investigated. 

The  intense  interest,  as  well  f^s  the  amount  of  writing 

required  to  exhibit  these  matters,  will  furnish  my  best  apology 

for  passing  them  in  this  place.     They  may  h*  reafter  appear 

in  a  separate  volume.     But  I  cannot  allow  my  readers  to j)ass 

from  the  Hawaian  kingdom,  without  presenting  to  their  notice 

the  interesting  fact,  that  a  hundred  and  seven  thousand  savages 
4# 


V 


1^ 


4d 


SCENKS       IN        P  IT  K       PACIFIC. 


have  there  been  brought  williin  the  pale  of  civihsnlion  and 
Christianity  through  the  instrumentahty  of  the  Americans. 

Twenty-five  years  ago  a  nation  occupied  the  Kingdom  of 
Hawaii  which  sought  its  happiness  from  a  systematic  viola- 
tion of  the  fundamental  laws  of  Creation.  Their  food  was 
under  the  tabu,  or  ban  ;  so  that  the  powerful  in  civil  and  reli- 
gious affairs  appointed  the  best  edibles  for  their  own  use,  and 
made  death  the  penalty  to  their  wives,  daughters  and  inferiors, 
if  they  tasted  them.  The  fire  kindled  to  cook  the  food  of  the 
men  was  tabued ;  it  was  death  for  a  woman  to  kindle  hers 
from  it,  or  cook  or  light  a  pipe  at  it.  The  person  of  the 
king  was  tabued.  It  was  death  to  touch  him,  or  any  article 
which  he  had  used,  or  to  step  on  his  shadow,  or  the  shadow 
of  his  house.  And  at  the  hour  of  midnight  human  victims 
were  slaughtered,  and  piled  on  scaffolcb  with  dogs  and  hogs, 
around  the  temples  which  they  would  consecrate  to  their 
deities ! ! 

Here  human  nature  had  been  forced  from  its  true  appeten- 
cies to  the  material  and  spiritual  Universe.  Its  misery  fol- 
lowed as  an  inevitable  consequent.  But  the  Hawaians  were 
thinkers.  The  violated  ordinances  of  the  world,  recoiling  on 
them  at  every  tread  of  life,  forced  on  them  the  thought  of 
obedience  and  its  blessings.  And  they  rose  in  their  power  ; 
ate  from  the  full  hand  of  heaven ;  prostrated  their  ancient 
temples;  burned  their  hideous  gods;  made  the  civil  power 
subservient  to  the  common  good ;  and  restored  themselves, 
after  immemorial  ages  of  degradation,  to  the  quiet  reign  of  the 
natural  laws.  It  is  most  remarkable  that  the  American  mis- 
sionaries were  on  their  voyage  to  the  islands  while  these 
things  were  being  done ! 

The  law  of  relationship  between  these  people  and  their 
Maker  had  been  lost  among  the  crude  follies  of  idol-worship 
and  civil  tjnranny.  These  they  had  broken  down  by  a. mighty 
blow.  The  fragments  of  their  temples,  altars  and  gods,  were 
strewn  over  the  land.  An  entire  nation  looked  on  the  flowers, 
the  stars,  the  rivulet,  the  ocean,  the  burds  and  themselves,  and 


k  \ 


X 


1 


T  n  A  V  i:  r,  s     in     t  it  e     c  a  i.  i  f  o  r  n  i  a  .« 


43 


U.  \ 


( 


believed  in  no  God ! !  The  vessel  which  brought  to  them  the 
Christian  faith  anchored  at  Honolulu !  The  event,  which 
shook  the  hills,  darkened  the  sun  and  openeil  the  graves  of 
Judca,  was  proclaimed,  and  gave  its  hopes  of  Heaven  to  a 
Imndred  thousand  people  !  A  nation  thus  entered  the  world 
as  its  loved  homestead ;  became  obedient  to  its  organization  ; 
called  back  the  wandering  religious  sympathies  to  the  worship 
of  the  true  God ;  opened  to  every  faculty  the  sphere  of  its 
legitimate  enjoyments;  and  made  human  nature  again  a 
component  part  of  creation,  existing  in  harmony  with  it  and 
its  Author. 

Man  must  incoii  orate  himself  into  that  great  chain  of  rela- 
tionship and  sympathy  which  runs  from  inorganized  matter  to 
the  first  feeble  manifestation  of  vegetable  life,  and  thence 
upward  through  bud,  leaf  and  blossom,  and  upward  still  along 
the  great  range  of  anunal  existence  to  the  thinking  and  feel- 
ing principle,  and  thence  to  God.  It  is  in  this  manner  alone 
that  he  can  feed  his  faculties  with  their  own  aliment.  And 
it  is  his  ignorance  of  the  dependence  of  each  portion  of  his 
body  and  mind,  on  each  and  every  external  existence,  which 
makes  thorns  for  his  feet  and  keeps  up  a  perpetual  warfare 
between  himself  and  the  immutable  conditions  of  his  true 
happiness. 

I  am  sincerely  persuaded  that  the  regulating  principle  of 
human  culture,  is  to  sympathize  with  every  form  of  creation 
within  our  knowledge  ;  to  enter  the  world  as  our  home  ;  to 
seat  ourselves  at  its  hearth ;  to  eat  its  viands  and  drink  its 
blessings ;  to  slumber  in  its  arms ;  to  hear  the  floods  of  har- 
monious sounds  which  come  up  to  us  from  the  matter  and  life 
about  us ;  and  to  yield  our  being  to  the  great  dependant  chain 
of  relationship  which  binds  God's  material  empire,  His  realms 
of  mind  and  Himself,  in  one  sympathizing  whole  ! 

The  universal  requirement  is,  that  man's  nature  shall  be 
brought  into  harmony  with  creation  and  its  Author.  This  is 
the  whole  law  of  our  being.  Obedience  to  it  is  the  unalter- 
able condition  of  happiness :  the  only  tnietpst  of  civilisation; 


1 


•M 


J»  r  E  N  K  R 


T  II  K     r  A  (•  I  I'  r  (" 


the  only  sf;i(('  in  whiili  our  powers,  pliysiriil  ;iih1  incnt.il,  will 
npci.ifc  li:trmoniousJy  ;  the  only  position  of  our  existence 
which  looks  forward  on  the  path  of  our  <le,stiny,  with  any  cer- 
tainly that  thouiifht,  li'eiinii^,  an<l  act,  will  lead  to  results  plea- 
surable to  ourselves  and  in  harmony  with  the  rest  of  the 
world. 

It  is  a  want  of  proper  reflection  on  this  matter  which  has 
rendered  abortive  so  many  ellorts  to  civilize  different  portions 
of  the  race.  In  India,  in  the  forests  of  the  west,  in  every 
other  place,  except  the  Ilawaian  Islands,  where  the  societies 
of  Protestantism  have  made  efforts  to  ameliorate  the  <'ondi- 
tion  of  the  barbarian,  nearly  the  whole  acting  force  has  been 
brou<^ht  to  b(>ar  on  I  he  cultivation  of  the  relit^ious  sentiments. 
The  theory  has  been,  make  them  Christians,  and  everything 
else  will  follow  as  a  promised  favor  of  Heaven. 

No  error  has  cost  the  Church  more  money  and  life  than  this. 
The  savage  has  been  taught  the  doctrines  of  salvation,  and  his 
direct  relations  to  the  Deity.  Thus  far,  well.  But  there  was 
no  corresponding  teaching  to  the  rest  of  his  nature.  His 
physical  wants  and  the  mode  of  supplying  them,  remained 
unchanged.  All  his  relations  to  the  external  world  continued 
the  same.  vVnd  the  largest  number  of  the  strongest  desires  of 
the  mind  being  thus  left,  to  contend  with  those  which  the 
missionaries  attempted  to  excite  and  purify,  it  is  no  wonder 
that  so  little  has  been  accomplished. 

In  the  Hawaian  Islands  the  missionaries  found  a  people 
living  in  villages,  having  a  property  in  the  soil,-  and  depend- 
ing- chiefly  upon  its  cultme  for  their  subsistence.  They  also 
found  them  destitute  of  every  kind  of  religion,  and  desirous  of 
receiving  one  :  they  were  a  talented  people  and  anxious  for 
new  ideas.  This  was  a  remarkable  state  of  things.  Their 
physical  adaptation  to  the  natural  world  was  so  far  in  advance 
of  the  mental,  that  the  latter  only  required  to  be  placed  on  an 
equal  footing  with  the  former,  to  produce  the  civilisation  and 
moral  rectitude  which  they  now  possess. 

The  result  of  missionary  efforts  in  these  islands,  if  well 


M;-,.- 


I 


r  U  A  V  K  1.  S       IN       T  UK       f  A  I,  I  K  O  R  N  I  A  S  . 


Ah 


{ 


umlorslood,  may  load  to  some  valuable  chanirrs  in  the  uindc 
ol'  ()|)('iatiiii^  I'lscwlu'i'c.  it  will  lu*  Icaiiu-d  that  whilf  the 
physii^al  wants  and  llu-  mode  ol  snpplyini;  tliem,  are  opposed 
to  the  ordained  condition,  it  is  vain  to  expeit  the  Christianized 
state. 

We  may,  meanwhile,  rejoice  at  this  single  result.  It  is 
one  of  the  great  events  of  the  age.  Twenly  thousand  Ila- 
Waians  are  members  of  Christian  churches.  Seventy  thou- 
sand read  and  write.  The  whoU'  people  are  better  taught, 
more  intelligent,  and  farther  advanced  in  civilisation  than  are 
the  citizens  of  the  Mexican  Republic.  Their  (Jovernment  is 
more  paternal,  and  administered  more  kindly  than  any  other 
known  to  civilized  man.     But  \  must  hasten  homeward. 

The  hospitality  of  <'ountrymen  during  my  tarry  in  these 
islands,  the  kindness  of  countrymen,  bestowed  on  me,  a  stran- 
ger, fleeing  from  my  grave,  and  sad — away  from  those  on 
whose  hearts  I  had  a  light  to  lean — how  can  I  ever  forget 
them  !  While  those  beautiful  islands  have  a  place  in  ray 
memory,  they  will  be  associated  with  some  of  the  most  grate- 
ful recollections  of  my  life.  It  is  painful  to  think  that  I  may 
never  again  grasp  the  hands  of  some  noble  spirits,  whom  I 
saw  and  love<l  in  the  kingdom  of  Hawaii ! 

To  the  sea !  on  board  the  bark  Don  Quixote,  Paty,  master, 
bomid  for  Upper  California  !  We  left  tin;  harbor  of  Honolulu, 
under  a  sweet  land  breeze  from  the  forests  crowning  the  vol- 
canic hills  in  the  rear  of  the  city,  and  bore  away  to  the  west- 
ward along  the  coast.  The  mountains  of  decomposing  lava 
rose  from  the  water  side  in  sharp  curving  ridges,  which, 
elevating  themselves  as  they  swept  inland,  lay  in  the  interior 
piled  above  the  clouds.  Some  of  them  were  covered  with  the 
dense  green  foliage  of  the  tropics ;  and  others  were  as  desti- 
tute of  vegetation  as  when  they  were  poured,  a  liquid  burning 
mass,  from  the  cauldron  of  the  volcanoes.  Many  valleys 
dotted  with  the  hay-thatched  huts  of  the  natives,  their  fields 
of  taro,  and  orchards  of  bread-fruit,  cocoa  and  plantain,  lay 
along  the  shore.    The  lower  hills  were  covered  with  frolick- 


46 


S  C  E  N  '•;  S      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


ing  goats,  and  here  and  there  on  the  projecting  cliffs,  stood  a 
group  of  stalwart  figures,  brown  as  the  rocks,  shouting  their 
pleasure  at  seeing  our  ship,  with  all  sails  steadily  drawing, 
push  through  the  waves.  Having  rounded  the  southwestern 
cape,  we  laid  our  court.3  through  the  channel  between  Oahu 
and  Taui,  with  the  intentioi;  of  avaiUng  ourselves  of  the 
northern  "  variables,"  to  carry  us  to  the  American  coast. 

In  the  cabin  we  had  seven  passengers ;  Mr.  Chamberlain, 
the  fiscd  agent  of  the  American  Missions  at  the  islands — a 
man  of  a  fine  mind  and  unpretending  goodness,  who  had  mi- 
dertaken  the  voyage  for  the  b'^nefit  of  his  health — Mr.  Cobb, 
the  mate  of  a  whaler,  a  plain  honest  man,  going  home  to  die 
of  an  injury  from  the  f  nlling  of  a  spar  on  shipboard :  a  spend- 
thrift of  Philadelphia,  relurninTj  from  a  two  or  three  year's 
spree  in  the  Pacific;  and  a  brace  of  Charlestown  bo}s,  who 
were  on  their  way  homeward  for  goods  and  sweethearts. 
One  of  these  was  an  excellent  little  fellow,  with  a  soul  full  of 
^usic  and  justice ;  ♦!ie  other  a  singer  of  bass  and  an  acting 
agent  general,  in  the  same  department.  The  only  representa- 
tive of  the  fair  sex  we  could  boast  of,  was  a  half-breed  Ha- 
"waian  lass,  going  to  visit  "  the  Major,"  her  ^ather,  an  old 
mountaineer  from  New  England,  who  was  keeping  a  small 
shop  at  Santa  Barbara,  in  Upper  California. 

Captain  Paty  was  a  uttle  man,  with  a  quiet  spirit,  and  a 
geneiGus  heart  J  a  New  England  man  who  always  kept  his 
eye  to  the  windward,  and  gave  his  sails  to  the  stoutest  breeze 
without  fep.r  of  clew-lines  or  stays.  The  mate,  a  lusty  Eng- 
lish tar  of  the  Greenwich  school,  was  a  jolly  old  boy,  wnose 
face  was  always  charged  with  a  smile,  ready  to  be  let  off  on 
the  least  occasion  of  conferring  happiness.  Our  second  mate 
was  an  Italian,  who  had  left  his  couu.ry  for  doubtful  reasons, 
married  an  Anicrlcan  girl  in  the  city  of  New  York,  buried 
h.. .,  and  was  now  roaming  the  seas  in  the  double  capacity  of 
second  mate  and  ship's  carpenter,  for  the  means  of  educating 
his  only  child. 

Our  crew  was  a  collection  of  odd-fellows.    The  first  in 


,1 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CAI,  IFOR  N  IAS. 


47 


m 


r  i\ 


height  and  importance  was  "Yankee  Tomj"  the  second 
a  pair  of  English  renegadoes,  from  the  royal  navy  or  else- 
where ;  next  came  a  number  of  ol'.l  tars,  who  hai!e(l  from  the 
earth  generally ;  then  several  Ha^vaians,  and  last  of  all,  the 
cook;  as  dark  a  piece  of  flesh  as  ever  wore  wool,  and  as  in- 
dependent a  gentleman  as  ever  wrestled  with  a  soup  pot. 
Thus  were  we  well  manned  fore  and  aft.  The  extremes  of 
cursing  and  prayer,  of  authority  and  subserviency,  law, 
divinity,  and  merchandize,  were  there. 

Indeed,  we  had  a  piece  of  everything  in  the  way  of  thought, 
feeling,  taste  and  form,  requisite  to  furnish  a  very  respectable 
human  menagerie.  And  if  the  shade  of  cur  friend  Cuvier  had 
leisure  on  his  hands  to  look  in  upon  us,  and  observe  the 
paws  of  our  liens,  the  teeth  of  our  tigers,  the  grins  of  our 
apes,  the  wool  of  ou  •  lambs,  and  the  mental  and  physical  qua- 
lities of  each  species,  I  doubt  not  he  was  satisfied  with  the 
diversity  of  their  powers  and  the  completeness  of  the  col- 
lection. 

When  leaving  the  latitude  of  the  islands,  we  had  a  distant 
view  of  the  Taui.  It  was  studded  with  mountains  of  moder- 
ate elevation,  clothed  with  evergreen  forests.  It  appeared 
beautiful  enough  to  be  the  island  of  Indian  Mythology  under 
the  setting  sun,  where  the  good  will  find  eternal  hunting, 
fishing,  and  women  of  unfading  beauty.  But  our  ship  stood 
away  under  a  strong  breeze,  and  we  soon  lost  sight  of  the 
island  in  the  mist  and  shades  of  night. 

While  making  our  northing  we  experienced  a  great  variety 
of  weather.  On  the  first  two  or  three  degrees  it  was  compara- 
tively mild,  and  the  generous  breezes  appeared  to  push  us  on 
with  a  right  good  will.  But  on  reaching  the  latitude  beyond 
the  Trades,  the  winds  from  the  northwest  overtook  us.  These 
currents  of  air  in  the  winter  and  spring  are  exceedingly  rough, 
gusty  and  cold ;  and  being  often  alternated  with  the  warm 
breezes  from  the  torrid  zone,  produce  conditions  of  the  atmos- 
phere, which,  in  more  senses  than  one,  may  be  termed  "  va- 
riables."   The  balmy  breath  of  one  day  contrasts  strongly 


^ 


48 


•S  (   K  .\  !•• 'i      IN      THfi      PACIFIC, 


with  the  frozen  blasts  of  another ;  the  soft  bright  clouds  from 
the  south,  with  the  harsh  dark  shadows  from  the  north,  and 
the  rippling  sea  when  the  former  fans  it,  with  the  ragged 
waves  which  roll  under  the  latter. 

Ten  days  out ;  latitude  thirty-eight ;  wine'  fresh  from  the 
north  ^est ;  Mr.  Chamberlain  (juite  ill,  but  aLie  to  be  on  deck 
with  his  thermometer ;  the  Charleston  boys  too  sick  to  make 
music  ;  the  Philadelphia  blade's  hair  uncombed ;  Mr.  Cobb 
very  much  exhilarated  with  the  bold  movement  of  the  ship ; 
the  half-breed  Hawaian  lass  as  lovely  as  circumstances  per- 
mitted ;  the  crew  growing  fat  on  salt  beef ;  the  ship,  making 
her  ten  knots,  headed  toward  Cape  Mendocino,  and  everything 
else  in  some  sort  of  condition ;  thus  stood  the  affairs  of  our 
floating  home. 

Ten  days  more  passed  on,  and  little  change  in  these  things 
occurred,  for  better  or  worse  j  save  that,  when  we  arrived 
within  a  hundred  miles  of  the  coast,  the  northerly  winds  be- 
came less  violent,  and  their  temperature  higher.  Our  old 
bark  was  as  brave  a  Don  among  the  waters  as  one  would 
wish  to  see.  He  was  of  American  origin,  a  fine  model  of  an 
ocean  cavalier,  and  did  battle  with  the  floods  as  fearlessly  as 
any  ship  that  ever  doubled  the  Cape.  Our  time  on  board,  there- 
fore, went  off  rather  agreeably ;  for  the  speed  of  a  landsman's 
passage  at  sea  is  the  absorbing  element  of  its  pleasures. 

The  officers  atid  crew  had  employment  enough  to  occupy 
them,  and  were  usually  in  that  agreeable  mood  of  body  and 
mind  which  produces  a  good  appetite,  hearty  joking  and 
sound  sleeping.  When  the  winds  were  stiff,  they  busied 
themselves  in  keeping  sails,  ropes,  spars  and  masts  at  their 
appropriate  duties  ;  and  when  a  warm  sun  and  steady  breeze 
came,  the  sailors  overhauled  the  wormy  biscuits,  repaired  old 
sails,  picked  oakum,  put  the  spun-yarn  wheel  in  motion, 
while  the  Italian  carpenter  drove  jack-plain,  and  the  English 
mate  gave  us  specimens  of  rope-splicing  and  bending  sails 
according  to  the  rules  at  Greenwich. 

I  noticed  on  board  the  Don  Quixote,  and  elsewhere  during 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      C  A  L  I  F  O  n  N  I  A  S 


49 


>ny  wanderings,  a  difference  between  British  and  American 
seamen,  which  I  believe  to  be  quite  general.    It  is  this.    The 
Briton  i^  better  acquainted  v/ith  the  things  to  be  done  on  deck 
and  among  the  rigging  than  the  American  is.     He  splices  a 
rope  better ;  he  knows  better  how  to  make  a  ship  lock  trim 
and  comely.      But  he  knows  comparatively  nothing   about 
the  hull  of  his  craft.     His  seven  years  apprenticeship  has  been 
devoled  to  learning  the  best  mode  of  sailing  a  vessel  and 
keeping  her  in  good   condition.     He  learns  nothing  more. 
The*  American,  on  the  other  hand,  begins  at  the  kec/,  and 
reads  up  through  every  timber,  plank  and  spike,  io  <he  bul- 
warks.    And  although  he  docs  all  the  minor  labor  of  the 
fair-day  deck  work  with  less  neatness  and  durability,  yet  he 
will  do  it  so  well,  and  throw  his  canvass  on  the  winds  with 
'^uch  skill  and  daring,  as  to  outsail,  as  wJi  as  outmanage  his 
very  clever  rival.     The  Fatherland  should  be  proud  of  Jona- 
than.    He  is  a  rough,  hard-featured  lad ,'  and  in  right  of  pri- 
mogeniture, as  well  as  other  indisputable  relations,  he  must 
succeed  to  the  paternal  power  over  the  seas. 

A',  meridian,  on  the  16th  of  April,  we  ascertained  ourselves 
to  be  about  seventy-five  miles  from  the  American  coast.  All 
"were  weary  of  the  voyage.  It  had  been  exceedingly  monoto- 
nous ;  not  even  a  storm  to  break  its  tedium. 

At  two  o'clock  of  this  day,  however,  we  had  an  incident  in 
the  shape  of  a  squall,  from  the  northwest.  It  was  attended 
with  chilling  winds,  which  fd'  upon  us  like  a  shower  of  freez- 
ing arrows,  and  drove  everybiniv,  fxcept  officers  and  seamen, 
below.  The  blowing,  the  raining,  the  (latter  of  quick  fe«  i 
upon  deck,  the  cry  of  the  sailors,  " luave-a-hoy  !"  is  they 
shorten  sails  and  brace  up  the  yards ;  Mie  heavy  swells,  beat- 
ing the  ship  like  ponderous  battering-rams  ;  the  air,  that  u^ 
per  ocean,  running  its  flood  most  furiously  upon  lliat  which 
lies  beneath  ;  our  vessel  riding  the  one  as  if  escaping  from 
the  wrath  of  the  other;  the  upper  surface  of  the  airy  seas, 
crowded  withfleets  of  thunder-clouds  chasinp*  each  othi  r  i  ,,|ly, 
and  sending  out  the  fire  and  noise  of  terrible  conflict !  1  ncse  are 
5 


H 


I 

fe 


\\ 


n 


50 


RCENKS      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


the  I'eatures  of  that  squall.  Our  good  ship  reeled  and 
trembled  under  the  shock  of  the  waters  and  windc,  as  if  her 
planks  and  timbers  were  separating. 

Below  at  such  a  time  was  doubtless  our  safest  birth,  but 
that  was  far  from  being  peculiarly  comfortable  !  About  half 
of  the  passengers  were  on  each  side  of  the  cabin,  holding  at 
the  births  ;  and  when  the  ship  rose  on  a  billow  and  careened,  it 
straigh'ened  those  on  the  larboard  side  like  lamprey-eels 
hanging  to  rocks ;  while,  as  the  surge  passed  on,  ihe  ship 
careened  the  other  way,  making  eels  of  those  on  the  ^tar- 
board  fii(l<t !  The  furniture  tumbled,  the  steward  giving  chase 
fell  in  the  midst  of  it  j  the  Hawaian  lass  attempted  to  gain 
her  birth  and  iell ;  and  tumult,  danger,  sublimity,  and  the 
ridiculous,  united  to  provoke  alternately  our  laughter,  fea- 
and  admiration.  It  cleared  up  in  un  hour,  however,  and  we 
went  OP  again  pleasantly,  under  a  three-knot  breeze. 

On  the  evening  of  the  17th,  we  heard  right  gladly  the 
cry  of  "  Land  ho  !"  <'  Where  away  V  «  A  little  on  the 
starboard  bow !"  I  was  in  the  cabin  at  the  time.  Any  other 
word  spoken  with  a  greater  volume  of  voice  would  have 
passed  unheard.  But  land!  land!  the  solid  land!  with  its 
odor  of  earth  aiid  flower,  is  a  word  which,  if  uttered  in  a 
whisper,  has  deep  music  for  one  who  has  for  twenty  odd  days 
been  stunned  by  contentious  waves  ;  a  sweetness  and  vigor 
of  meaning  to  the  weary  wayfarer  >.  '  "  seas,  which  must  be 
heard, — "  Land  ahead." 

Its  winged  messengers  already  twittered  in  the  rigging ! 
The  shores  loomed  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon!  The 
white  cliffs  on  the  north  side  of  Monterey  Bay,  in  Upper 
California,  were  in  sight !  We  kept  our  course  toward  them 
till  dayUght-down,  and  then  beat  off  and  on  till  the  dawn  of 
the  following  morning. 

Jlpril  18th.  The  land,  the  glorious  old  land,  is  near  us  on 
our  left — five  miles  away !  The  cattle  of  the  Mission  Santa 
Cruz  are  grazing  on  the  hills !  The  matin  bells  are  ringing 
from  its  tower,  and  the  arrowy  light  is  routing  the  darkness 


1 

*  - 


J' 


I 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIF  OR  MAS. 


51 


from  the  Californian  mountains !  A  morning  of  the  blooming 
spring  poured  down  from  Heaven  on  this  Italy  of  America  ! 
A  sunrise  on  the  land ;  and  the  conquered  night  where  it 
very  properly  may  be,  running  wild  over  the  seas  ! 

A  breeze  from  the  west  drove  us  slowly  down  the  bay,  so 
near  the  shore,  that  we  had  a  clear  view  of  it.  At  the  north- 
east corner  of  the  bay  is  a  green  gorge,  dowt  which  flows  a 
small  stream  of  pure  water.  Near  its  mouth,  on  a  snug  little 
plain,  stands  the  mission  of  Santa  Cruz,  with  its  chapel  and 
adobie  Indian  huts.  Around  it  are  some  fields,  on  which  the 
Indians  raise  grains,  vegetables  and  grapes.  Beyond  this,  to 
the  northward,  the  coi'ntry  swells  away  into  lofty  hills, 
covered  with  grass  and  sprinkled  with  copses  of  pine  and 
oak. 

From  Santa  Cruz  down  to  Monterey,  the  land  is  broken  by 
low  hills,  too  rough  for  general  cultivation,  upon  which  grow 
a  few  trees  of  a  soft  and  worthless  character.  But  the 
greenness  of  the  whole  surface  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  and 
tht  absence  of  any  abode  of  man,  make  it  very  appropriate 
pasture-ground  for  the  wild  horses,  oatth;,  mules,  and  the 
grisly  bears,  lions  and  elk,  that  herd  upon  it. 

About  five  o'clock  we  round  to,  under  the  Castle  of  Mon- 
terey. The  boat  is  lowered,  the  captain  and  part  of  the  pas- 
sengers get  aboard  of  her,  and  shove  off  for  the  landing. 
The  ship  meanwhile  lies  off  and  on  within  hail.  When  a 
hundred  fathoms  from  the  shore  we  are  hailed  by  the  custom- 
house barge,  and  ordered  back  to  the  ship !  Whereupon  a 
parley  takes  place,  during  which  we  are  informed  that  Cali- 
fornia is  in  a  state  of  revolution,  and  that  no  foreigners  can 
enter  the  country. 

I  was  emaciated  with  sea-sickness,  enfeebled  for  want  of 
fresh  food,  and  altogether  so  miserable  at  the  idea  of  not 
dining  that  day  upon  Californian  beans  and  beef,  that  I  made 
a  desperate  effort  to  express  in  Spanish  the  honest  rage  of  my 
heart  at  such  treatment.  But  having  uttered  French  instead 
of  Spanish  wrath,  I  was  about  correcting  myself,  when  a  lean 


'T 


53 


SCENES      IN       T  HE       i-  A  C  I  !•  1  C  , 


villainous  physiognomy,  supported  by  a  lank,  long-armed  and 
long-shinned  carcass,  in  lieutenant's  epaulettes,  replied  in 
French,  "  M,  nion  frire,  Fram^ais,"  and  immediately  gave 
orders  for  us  to  land.  The  boat  therefore  ran  through  the 
surf,  grazed  upon  the  rocV     and  lay  dry  on  the  beach. 


/U 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Mother  Earlh — Revolution— Americans  and  British  in  Prison — A  Guard 
— A  Governor — An  Interview — An  Alcalde —A  Passport — A  running 
Salute— Cries  for  Air  and  Water— Despair— A  Hjrrid  Night— Star- 
vation— Dungeons — A  Demand — Signals — A  course  adopted — A 
Leaf  of  History — General  Eclir.anda  and  liis  Deeds— A  Tennessean 
Hunter  and  a  Clerk — A  Camp  Formed — A  League — A  March — Azi 
Attack — A  Banishment— Independence — An  old  Method  of  Reward- 
ing Friends — A  Notification — A  Junto — Wagers  and  Seaoritas — A 
Stratagem  and  its  Consequences — Names  of  Prisoners. 

On  the  land !  The  human  frame  derives  its  vital  elements 
from  the  generous  land !  The  earth  is  our  mother,  and  she 
seems  to  rejoice  when  her  children  tread  her  threshold  and 
ask  her  for  bread  and  happiness. 

We  inquired  the  cause  of  the  reported  tumult  in  the  coun- 
try, and  were  answered  in  brief  whispers !  The  speakers 
looked  cautiously  around  them  for  listening  ears  and  Spanish 
rapiers.  It  was  difficult  to  find  a  man  with  an  English  tongue 
and  a  white  skin,  who  dared  converse  alone  with  us  on  any 
subject.  Indeed,  it  was  impossible  to  do  so,  I'or  whenever 
the  attempt  was  made,  some  Spaniard  drew  stealthily  near  to 
listen !  And  when  the  gentlemen  from  the  ship  left  the  land- 
ing for  the  town,  in  company  with  some  American  and  British 
residents,  the  government  officers  mingled  among  them,  and 
changed  the  conversation  cs  often  as  it  turned  upon  what  they 


i 


il 


TRAVELS       IN       THE      CALIFORNIA S 


68 


} 


termed  "  the  revolution."  Men  of  stout  hearts  even  spoke 
httle.  Tjife  appeared  to  hang  upon  a  breath  in  Monterey  ! 
We  entered  the  house  of  an  American  merchant  by  the  name 
of  Larkin,  and  sat  down  to  tea.  We  did  not  eat  alone  !  An 
officer  of  the  government  sat  with  us  !  Conversation  ran  on 
general  topics.  The  cause  of  the  apparent  trepidation  was  in- 
quired into  by  an  American  from  the  Don  Quixote,  but  nothing 
could  be  elicited.  The  official  sat  erect,  sw-elled  his  person 
into  dignity,  ate  heartily,  drank  deeply,  rose  first  from  the 
table,  an  intimation  that  we  might  follow  his  illustnous  exam- 
ple; burned  his  fingers  in  smoking  a  paper  cigar,  and  at 
length  rolled  his  greasy  form  out  of  doors. 

"  Rid  of  you  at  last,  thank  God,"  said  a  little  Englishman, 
who  had  dropped  in  during  supper,  "  and  now  for  talk  inside 
of  ceilings."  We  soon  learned  from  Mr.  Larkin  and  others, 
that  one  hundred  and  fifty  odd  Americans  and  Britons  were 
thirsting  and  starving  in  the  prisons  of  the  town,  and  destined 
to  be  sacrificed  to  Spanish  malignity  !  The  question  arose, 
Can  they  be  saved  ?  It  was  hoped  they  might ;  it  was  resolv- 
ed on  our  lives  that  they  should  ^e ;  while  all  in  low  voice 
spoke  of  the  uncertainty  of  life  for  an  hour  in  Monterey  ! 

The  first  duty,  on  setting  foot  in  California,  is  to  report 
oneself  to  the  governor,  and  obtain  from  him  a  written  per- 
mission to  remain  in  the  country.  This  I  proceeded  to  do. 
Mr.  Larkin  was  obliging  enough  to  accompany  me  to  the 
governor's  residence.  We  found,  before  it,  a  small  number 
of  men,  who  were  usually  complimented  with  the  cognomen 
of  "  guard."  They  consisted  of  five  half-breed  Indians,  and 
what  passed  for  a  white  corporal,  lounging  about  the  door  in 
the  manner  of  grog-shop  savans.  Their  outer  man  is  worth 
a  description.  They  wore  raw  bull's-hide  sandals  on  their 
feet,  leathern  breeches,  blankets  about  their  shoulders,  and 
anything  and  everything  upon  their  heads.  Of  arms,  they 
had  nothing  which  deserved  the  name.  One  made  preten- 
sions with  an  old  musket  witliout  lock ;  and  his  four  com- 
rades were  equally  heroic,  with  kindred  pieces,  so  deeply 


"T"'     -"-"^ 


64 


SCENES      IS      THV.       P  A  (    I  !•  f  C  , 


I 


i 


rusted,  that  tlie  absence  of  locks  would  have  been  an  unim- 
portant item  in  estimating  their  value. 

We  passed  this  valorous  body,  ascended  a  flight  of  stairs, 
and  entered  the  presence  of  governor  Juan  Baptiste  Alva- 
rado ;  a  well-formed,  full-blooded,  Californian  Spaniard,  five 
feet  eleven  inches  in  height,  with  coal-black  curly  hair,  deep 
black  eyes,  fiercely  black  eye-brows,  high  cheek  bones,  an 
aquiline  nose,  fine  white  teeth,  brown  complexion,  and  the 
clearly  marked  mien  of  a  pompous  coward,  clad  in  the  broad- 
cloth and  whiskers  of  a  gentleman. 

When  we  entered  he  was  sitting  behind  a  kind  of  writing- 
desk,  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room.  He  rose  as  we  entered^ 
and  received  us  with  the  characteristic  urbanity  of  a  Spanish 
body  without  a  soul ;  waved  us  to  chairs,  when  he  would  have 
seen  us  tumbling  from  the  balcony ;  smiled  graciously  at  us 
with  one  corner  of  his  mouth,  while  he  cursed  us  with  the 
other ;  seated  himself,  laid  up  his  arms  and  hands  on  the 
upper  shelf  of  his  abdomen,  and  asked  if  the  ship  had 
anchored ! 

El  Goubernador  had  sundry  reasons  for  making  this  inquiry 
concerning  the  Don  Quixote.  The  chief  one,  however,  was, 
that  he  and  his  officers,  like  all  their  predecessors,  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  looking  on  the  arrival  of  a  ship  in  the  port  of 
Monterey  as  a  discharge  of  debts  and  '  .se  for  new  levies 
on  their  credit.  Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  I  believe  a  Cali- 
fornian Spaniard  is  ever  so  far  false  to  .s  nature,  as  to  wish 
his  debts  paid,  while  his  credit  will  supply  his  wants.  My 
investigations  into  the  character  of  his  progenitors,  both 
Indian  and  Spanish,  will  always  preserve  me  from  such 
an  error.  Nor  would  I  have  it  believed,  that  the  transplanted 
chivalry  of  the  Andalusians  does  not  absolutely  boil  and 
bubble,  at  the  bare  thought  of  not  being  able  to  plunder  from 
the  rest  of  mankind  a  gentleman's  living.  Any  such  impeach- 
ment of  the  sagacity  and  scrupulousness  of  these  men,  would 
be  a  wrong  against  which  my  sense  of  justice  would  most 
vehemently  protest.    In  plain  words  then,  at  the  time  the 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNrAS. 


65 


Don  Quixote  came  into  the  bay,  Alvarado  and  his  officers 
were  deeply  in  debt,  and  distressed  only  to  select  means  of 
paying  them,  accordant  with  Californian  honor.  The  arrival 
of  a  ship  in  port  furnished  just  these  means.  The  manner  in 
which  it  did  so  may  not  be  unworthy  of  specification. 

El  Alta  California  is  a  department  of  the  Mexican  Republic  ; 
and  by  law  the  moneys  collected  for  port-duts  and  duties 
belong  to  the  revenue  of  the  central  government.  But  as  the 
right  to  life,  property,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  is,  among 
the  Californian  Spaniards,  construed  to  authorize  both  indi- 
viduals and  States  to  defraud,  plunder  and  murder,  if  they  find 
it  safe  and  lucrative  to  do  so,  the  freemen,  or  rather  the  Gov- 
ernor of  California  and  his  subalterns,  were  in  the  habit  of 
commuting  a  large  portion  of  the  port-dues  and  duties,  for 
certain  sums  of  money  and  quantities  of  goods  for  their  own 
personal  use.  Their  capacity  for  this  kind  of  plundering 
formed  in  part  the  basis  af  their  credit  with  foreign  merchants 
and  traders,  from  whom  they  obtained  their  supplies. 

Hence  the  anxieties  of  Sa  Excellentissimo  about  the  bark. 
If  she  had  come  to  anchor  there  must  necessar.  ^e  a  small 
chance  for  robbery  in  the  tonnage  dues ;  and  if  i  hly  laden 
with  goods  subject  to  duties,  she  would  be  quite  a  mine, 
which  he  already  dreamed  himself  plundering  with  golden 
success.  As  soon  as  we  could  turn  his  attention  from  these 
hopes  of  gain,  Mr.  Larkin  informed  him  of  my  wishes,  and 
with  much  deference  suggested  the  humanity  of  transferring 
me  from  idleness  on  shipboard  to  the  enjoyment  of  Castilian 
industry  ashore ;  to  wit,  lounging,  grinning,  sleeping,  and 
ving  rolls  of  paper  tinctured  with  "  the  weed." 

Sa  Excellentissimo  found  it  difficult  to  comprehend  the 
necessity  of  the  request,  inasmuch  as  the  bark  might  come 
to  anchor  for  my  quiet  and  health,  in  which  case  I  would  be 
permitted,  as  seamen  were,  to  be  on  shore  during  her  stay  in 
port.  But  being  informed  that  there  were  no  goods  on  board 
the  bark,  that  it  was  not  intended  to  bring  her  to  anchor,  and 
that,  consequently,  neither  bribes  nor  Mexican  tribute  would 


i 


T 


;  ''i^ 


1 1'  ,i 


56 


SCENES        IN       THE       PACIFIC 


be  paid  to  Don  Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado,  El  Goubernador  del 
Alta  California,  he  frankly  confessed  that  he  saw  no  necessity, 
indicated  by  his  interest,  why  I  should  ever  have  existed,  and 
still  less  made  any  of  my  pleasures  dependant  on  him  or  his 
Alta  California. 

This  I  esteemed,  as  in  all  chivalry  I  was  bound  to  do,  an 
exhibition  of  great  elevation  of  character  as  well  as  an  indi- 
cation of  the  height  from  which  Sa  Excellentissimo  had 
descended  to  reach  my  case!  Therefore,  I  bowed  assent  to 
the  majesty  of  such  philanthropic  and  truly  civilized  opi- 
nions. What  man  in  Castilian  presence  could  do  otherwise  1 
But  a  doubt  still  hung  over  the  eyebrows  of  the  don.  He 
looked  at  my  height,  six  feet  Green  Mountain  measure ;  at 
my  wardrobe,  consisting  of  a  Hudson  Bay  Company's  frock- 
coat  of  blue,  a  speckled  vest  from  London,  pants  of  English 
extraction,  boots  from  the  lapstones  of  Lynn ;  and,  shrugging 
his  shoulders  like  a  grisly  bear  in  an  effort  to  be  a  gentle- 
man, said  we  could  go  to  the  alcalde  ;  then  with  most  sover- 
eign emphasis  bowed  us  out  of  his  presence ! 

The  alcalde  was  at  home,  or  rather  in  his  adobie  den ;  for 
there  is  neither  a  home  nor  the  semblance  of  it  in  all  the 
Spanish  world.  He  was  taking  his  siesta,  or  midday  nap,  on 
a  bull's  hide  in  the  corner  of  his  apartment.  The  dog,  which 
had  barked  us  into  his  presence,  had  awakened  him ;  so  that 
when  we  entered  the  room,  he  was  rolling  his  burly  form 
towards  a  chair.  After  being  well-seated,  and  having  with 
some  difficulty  brought  his  eyes  to  bear  upon  us,  he  was 
pleased  to  remark  that,  the  weather  was  fine,  and  that  various 
other  things  existed  in  a  definite  state ;  as  that  his  dog  was 
yery  fat ;  the  bean  crop  gave  good  promise  j  the  Hawaian 
Islands  were  ten  leagues  from  Monterey  ! ! !  the  CaHfornians 
were  very  brave  men;  and  that  the  Don  Quixote  had  not 
come  to  anchor  ! !  To  each  of  these  announcements  I  gave 
an  unqualified  assent. 

Having  ascertained  by  these  means  that  I  was  well- 
instructed  in  beasts,  beans,  men  and  r    Dgraphy,  he  imme- 


fi. 


T  K  A  V  i:  I,  S       IN         1'  H  li        C  A  L  1   F  O  R  N  I  A  S  . 


57 


(iiatcly  took  me  into  favor,  expressed  great  surprise  that  my 
Irieiul  should  have  thought  that  he  could  refuse  my  request, 
and  assured  me  that  it  gave  him  infinite  jileasure  to  write  me 
a  permission  of  residence.  Here  it  is.  When  the  reader  is 
informed  that  it  was  an  impromptu  production,  he  will  be 
able  to  estimate,  in  a  faint  degree  indeed,  the  intelligence  and 
genius  of  the  Californians.  Only  one  hour  and  a  quarter 
were  consumed  in  bringing  it  torth ! 

Mr.  Thomas  J.  Famham  pasageroeii  la  barca  Americana  Don  duizote 

habiendama  manilebta  do  el  pasporte  de  su  consul  y  queriendo  quidar  en 

tierra  a  (vertarblessc)  en  su  salud  le  doy  el  presente  bolito  de  des  enbarco 

eu  el  puerta  de  Monterey  ! ! 

A  18  de  Abiil  do  1840. 

Antonio  Ma.  Orio. 

A  permission  this  to  remain  on  shore  as  long  as  might  be 
necessary  for  the  restoration  of  my  health !  Having  received 
it  with  many  demonstrations  of  regard,  we  took  our  leave  of 
the  illustrious  dignitary  under  a  running  salute  from  his  dog, 
and  repaired  to  el  casa  del  goubernador  (the  governor's 
house).  The  dog  accompanied  us.  He  appeared  to  rejoice 
in  our  presence.  After  he  saw  us  pass  into  the  governor's 
door  he  howled  piteously,  and  trotted  off  toward  the  prisons. 

We  obtained  from  Sa  Excellentissimo  a  written  confir- 
mation of  the  alcalde's  document,  and  returned  to  the  house 
of  Mr.  Larkin.  •  There  we  met  a  number  of  Americans  and 
Britons,  from  whom  we  learned  that  their  countrymen  were 
famishing  unto  death  in  the  prisons  of  the  town !  A  consulta- 
tion, held  in  an  upper  room,  in  whispers,  under  the  dreadful 
certainty  that  death  would  be  the  penalty  if  it  became  known 
to  the  demon  government,  ended  the  labors  of  that  day  and 
night!  The  house  of  my  friend  was  but  a  few  rods  from 
some  of  the  prisons,  and  when  all  was  still  at  midnight,  I  could 
hear,  b(;tween  the  breaking  surges  on  the  beach,  the  prisoners 
cry— 

"  Breathe  fast,  for  God's  sake !  I  must  come  to  the  grate 
soon  or  I  shall  suffocate  !" 


,1 


68 


S  C  E  N  K  S       IN       Til  1".       1'  A  (•  I  F  I  C 


"  Give  me  water,  you  merriless  devils  !  i^ive  me  water  !" 
"  You  infernal  sons  of  the  Inquisition,  give  me  drink  or  fire 
on  me !" 

And  then  another  voice  at  the  grate  exclaimed,  "  Give  us 
something  to  eat !  0  God,  we  shall  die  here !  We  can't 
breathe  !     Half  of  us  can't  speak  !" 

And  then  another  voice,  husky  and  weak,  said,  "  Why  !" 
in  a  tone  of  despairing  agony,  which  became  so  low  and 
inarticulate  that  I  could  not  he;  what  followed.  I  had  not 
seen  the  prisoners,  but  their  cries  lanished  sleep  and  all  desire 
to  rest.  I  therefore  went  out  upon  the  balcony,  and  seating 
myself  in  a  dark  nook,  watched,  as  well  as  I  was  able,  the 
movements  in  the  town. 

A  portion  of  the  troops  were  on  duty  as  an  armed  patrol. 
The  tap  of  the  drum  and  the  challenge,  "  Quin  vive  ?"  with 
the  reply,  "  Californias ;"  "  Quin  jente  ?"  and  the  response, 
"  Mexicanos,"  broke  in  upon  their  heavy,  sounding  tramp ! 
About  four  o'clock  the  men  in  the  castello,  or  fort,  became 
alarmed  by  a  cracking  of  dry  brush  in  the  neighboring  wood, 
and  the  patrol  rushed  to  their  rescue.  It  proved  to  be  the 
echo  of  their  fears.  The  patrol  soon  returned  to  their  posts, 
and  silence  again  reigned.  It  was  a  horrid  night !  Nature 
was  laughing  and  bright  on  earth  and  in  the  sky.  But  fiends 
had  gone  forth  to  mar  her  beauty.  The  same  spirit  which 
had  devastated  the  virtues  and  freedom  of  h^f  the  earth  was 
abroad  in  the  wilds  of  California,  as  of  old  in  Chili,  torturing 
those  whose  courage  their  bravado  could  not  subdue,  or  their 
pretension  intimidate ! 

The  sun  came  up  next  morning  most  brightly  in  that  clear 
blue  sky  of  California :  but  it  shone  on  sadder  hearts  than  I 
had  ever  before  seen.  The  flowers  were  creeping  up  along 
the  streets ;  and  the  grasses,  invigorated  by  the  winter  rains 
and  the  warm  days  of  spring,  were  growing  on  the  hiils ;  the 
cattle  and  wild  animals  roamed  about  enjoying  the  rich  liberty 
which  nature  gave  them.  They  possessed  no  qualities  which 
could  excite  the  wakefulness  of  Spanish  malignity  !    They 


T  U  A  V  K  I,  S       I  N       'I'  ir  E       (•  A  I,  I  F  ()  K  N  I  A  S 


:')i) 


Were  lowirijj;  and  IVolickin;^  out  their  iVeedoin  on  tlir  kind  and 
boautil'ul  earth.  But  man  was  raising  the  murderous  blade 
against  his  fellow ! 

Mr.  Laikin  ma<le  arrangements  with  the  government  to-day 
to  furnish  the  prisoners  with  food  and  drink.  Their  cells 
were  examined  and  foimd  destitute  of  floors  !  The  ground 
within  was  so  wet  that  the;  poor  fellows  sunk  into  it  several 
inches  at  every  step.  On  this  they  stood,  sat  and  slept ! 
From  fifty  to  sixty  werr*  crowded  into  a  room  eighteen  or 
twenty  feet  square  !  Tliey  could  not  all  sit  at  once,  even  in 
that  vile  pool,  still  less  lie  down !  The  cells  were  so  low  and 
tight  that  the  only  way  of  getting  air  enough  to  sustain  life, 
was  to  divide  themselves  into  platoons,  each  of  which  in  turn 
stood  at  the  grate  awhile  to  breathe  !  INlost  of  them  had  been 
in  prison  seven  and  eight  days,  with  no  food  except  a  trifling 
quantity,  clandestinely  introduced  by  a  few  daring  country- 
men outside.  When  I  arrived  at  the  prisons  some  of  them 
were  frantic  ;  others  in  a  stupor  of  exhaustion  ;  one  appeared 
to  be  dying !  An  American  citizen  went  to  the  governor 
with  a  statement  of  their  condition,  and  demanded  that  both 
Americans  and  Britons  should  be  humanely  treated  ;  that  they 
should  have  air,  food,  drink,  permission  to  bathe,  and  dry 
hides  wherewith  to  cover  the  mud  in  their  cells. 

Since  our  arrival  the  Don  Quixote  had  been  lying  off 
and  on.  She  usually  ran  out  one  morning  and  swept  into  the 
harbor  the  next.  This  circumstance,  together  with  the  fact 
that  this  American  was  always  on  the  shore  when  the  vessel 
passed  the  anchorage,  making  signals  to  her,  which  neither 
himself  nor  those  on  board  understood,  created  the  idea  that 
he  was  an  official  of  the  American  Government,  and  as  such, 
had  rights  which  it  would  be  well  to  respect.  This  impres- 
sion was  much  strengthened,  both  by  the  accidental  circum- 
stance of  his  wearing  a  cutlass  with  an  eagle  upon  its  hilt,  and 
his  holding  restraints  imposed  on  his  acts  as  highly  insulting 
and  disrespectful !  This  course  of  conduct  had  the  effect  de- 
signed.     Those   cowardly  apologies  of  men  became  tho- 


!i 


■Mi 


y 


J** 


I 


I'i 


I  »a: 


^!il 


60 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


roughly  impressed  that  he  bore  in  his  own  person  the  combined 
powers  of  the  American  Republic  and  the  British  Empire* 
Clothed,  therefore,  with  authority  so  potent,  he  took  measures 
for  the  relief  of  the  prisoners. 

But,  before  entering  upon  the  narration  of  these  measures^ 
it  will  be  proper  to  give  a  history  of  the  events  which  led  to 
the  imprisonment  of  these  men,  and  their  Intended  immolation.- 

In  1836,  a  Mexican  General  by  the  "lame  of  Echuandra 
was  the  Commandant  General  of  Upper  California.  Some 
years  previous,  as  will  be  particularly  sli..wn  in  another  place, 
he  had  come  up  from  Mexico,  with  a  band  of  fellow-myrm*  ■ 
dons,  and  having  received  the  submission  of  the  country  to 
the  authorities  of  that  Republic,  commen'^ed  robbing  the  Gov- 
ernment for  which  he  acted,  and  the  several  interests  which  he 
had  been  sent  to  protect.  Nothing  escaped  his  mercenary 
clutches.  The  people,  the  missions,  and  the  revenue  were 
robbed  indiscriminately  os  opportunity  offered.  A  few  of  the 
white  population  of  the  country  participated  iu  these  acts. 
But  generally  the  Californians  were  th?  sufferers  ;  and,  as  is 
plways  the  case  with  unhonoreJi  rogues,  raised  a  perpetual 
storm  of  indignation  about  the  dishonest  deeds  of  those  whom 
they  desired  to  supplant,  for  the  purpose  of  enacting  the  same 
things.  An  occurrence  of  thivS  kind  was  the  immediate  cause 
of  the  Revolution  in  1836. 

A  vessel  had  cast  anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Monterey.  Gen- 
eral Echuandra,  not  having  that  honorable  confidence  in  the 
immaculate  integrity  of  the  custom-house  officers,  which 
thieves  are  accustomed  to  have  in  one  another,  placed  a  guard 
on  board  the  craft,  to  prevent  them  frorr:  receiving  bribes  for 
their  own  exclusive  benefit.  To  this  the  officers  demurred ; 
and  in  order  to  free  their  territory  from  the  creptures  of  one, 
whose  conscience  would  compel  him  to  reser  -^e  bribes  for  his 
own  pocket  instead  of  theirs,  they  sent  their  own  clerk,  a 
younger  rascal  of  the  country,  by  the  name  of  Juan  Baptiste 
Alvarado,  to  inform  the  general  that  it  was  impropt"  to  sug- 
gest, by  putting  a  guard  on  board,  that  th   vfficers  of  the  ship 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       C  A  L I  F  0  R  N 1  A  S  , 


61 


which  lay  under  the  fort,  either  intended  or  dared  attempt,  to 
evade  the  payment  of  duties  ! ! 

The  General,  however,  was  too  well  acquainted  with  his 
inalienable  rights,  to  be  wheedled  out  of  them  in  this  manner ; 
and  manifested  his  indignation  toward  the  clerk,  for  attempting 
to  obtrude  his  plebeian  presence  on  his  golden  dream,  by  order- 
ing him  to  be  put  in  irons.  Alvarado,  however,  escaped.  He 
lied  into  the  country,  rallied  the  farmers,  who  still  loved  the 
descendants  of  Philip  the  Second  more  than  El  Presidenfey 
and  formed  a  camp  at  the  Mission  of  San  Juan,  thirty  miles 
eastward  from  Monterey. 

Near  this  mission  lived  an  old  Tennessean  by  the  name  of 
Graham  ;  a  stout,  sturdy  backwoodsman,  of  a  stamp  which 
exists  only  on  the  f'lontiersof  the  American  States — men  with 
the  blood  of  the  ancient  Normans  and  Saxons  in  their  veins — 
with  hearts  as  large  as  their  bodies  can  hold,  beating  nothing 
but  kindness  till  injustice  shows  its  fangs,  and  then,  lion-like, 
striking  for  vengeance.  This  trait  of  natural  character  had 
been  fostered  in  Graham  by  the  life  he  had  led.  Early  trained 
to  the  use  of  the  rifle,  he  had  learned  to  reoard  it  as  his 
friend  and  protector  ;  and  when  the  season  of  manhood  arrived, 
he  threw  it  upon  his  shoulder  and  sought  the  wilderness, 
where  he  could  enjoy  its  protection  and  be  fed  by  its  iaithful 
aim.  He  became  a  beaver  hunter — a  cavalier  of  the 
wilderness — that  noble  specimen  of  brave  men  who  have 
muscles  for  riding  wild  horses  and  warring  with  wild 
beasts,  a  steady  brain  and  foot  for  climbing  the  icy  preci- 
pice, a  strong  breast  for  the  mountain  torrent,  an  unrelent- 
ing trap  for  the  beaver,  a  keen  eye  and  a  deadly  shot  for  a 
foe.  A  man  was  this  Graham,  who  stood  up  boldly  before 
his  kind,  conscious  of  possessing  physical  and  mental  powers 
adequate  to  any  emergency.  He  had  a  stiong  aversion  to  the 
elegant  edifices,  the  furniture,  wardrobe,  and  food  of  polished 
life,  coupled  with  a  vivid  love  of  mountain  sublimity,  the  beau- 
tiful herbage  on  uncultivated  districts,  the  wild  animals  and 
the  streams  of  Wv'^ter  roaring  down  the  frozen  heights.  Kven 
9 


I 


6d 


SCENES       IN      THE      PACIFIC 


r 


the  grey  deserts  with  the  hunger  and  thirst  incident  to  travel- 
ling over  them,  had  wild  and  exciting  charms  for  him.  On 
these  his  giant  frame  had  obstacles  to  contend  witK  worthy 
of  its  powers ;  suffering  and  even  old  Death  himself  to  take 
by  the  throat  and  vanquish.  These  and  the  open  air  by  a 
projecting  rock,  with  the  dry  sand  or  the  green  sward  for  a 
hearth  and  couch,  a  crackling  pine  knot  fire  blazing  against 
the  cliffs,  and  roasting  a  buffalo  hump  or  the  sirloin  of  an  elk, 
after  the  day's  hunt  had  ended,  constituted  the  life  he  was 
fitted  to  enjoy. 

He  had  forced  his  way  over  the  Rocky  Mountains  and 
located  himself  in  Upper  California.  This  country  was  suited 
to  his  tastes.  Its  climate  allowed  him  to  sleep  in  the  open  air 
most  of  the  yefar;  an  abundance  of  native  animals  covered  the 
hills,  and  nature  was  spread  out  luxuriantly  evei-ywhere,  in 
wild  and  untrodden  freshness. 

As  I  have  said,  this  brave  man  resided  near  the  mission  of 
San  Juan.  He  had  erected  there  a  rude  dwelling,  and  a  dis- 
tillery. On  the  neighboring  plains  he  herded  large  bands  of 
horses,  mules  and  cattle.  To  this  fine  old  fellow  Alvarado 
made  known  his  peril  and  designs ;  whereupon  the  foreigners 
assembled  at  Graham's  summons,  elected  him  their  captain, 
an  Englishman  by  the  name  of  Coppinger,  lieutenant,  and 
repaired  to  San  Juan.  A  council  was  held  between  the  clerk 
and  the  foreigners.  The  former  promised,  that  if  by  the  aid 
of  the  latter  he  should  successfully  defend  himself  against  the 
acting  governor,  and  obtain  possession  of  the  country,  it 
should  be  declared  independent  of  Mexico  j  and  that  the  law, 
which  incapacitated  foreigners  from  holding  real  estate,  should 
be  abrogated.  The  foreigners  agreed,  on  these  conditions,  to 
aid  Alvarado  to  the  utmost  of  their  power.  The  next  morn- 
ing the  united  forces,  fifty  foreigners  and  twenty-five  Califor- 
nians,  marched  against  Monterey. 

They  entered  the  town  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day, 
and  took  up  their  position  in  the  woods,  one  hundred  rods  in 
the  rear  of  the  castello  or  fort.    No  event  of  importance 


\i' 


i 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIF ORNIAS 


63 


occurred  till  the  night  came  on,  when  the  awe  with  which 
darkness  sometimes  inspires  even  the  bravest  minds,  fell  with 
such  overwhelming  power  on  the  valorous  garrison,  that  not- 
witlistanding  they  were  supported  by  the  open  mouths  of  the 
guns,  the  barking  of  their  dog,  the  roar  of  the  surf,  and  the 
hooting  of  an  owl  on  a  neighboring  tree-top,  they  were  abso- 
lutely compelled  to  forsake  the  ramparts,  for  the  more  certain 
protection  of  unmolested  flight ! 

Graham  and  his  men  perceiving  this  discomfiture  of  their 
enemies,  availed  themselves  of  their  absence  by  taking  posses- 
sion of  the  evacuated  fort.  Alvarado,  meantime,  actuated,  it 
is  to  be  presumed,  by  a  desire  to  save  life  and  a  philosophical 
conviction  of  the  dangers  incident  to  bullets  rendered  crazy 
by  burning  powder,  restrained  the  fiery  ardor  of  his  tw^enty- 
five  Californians,  and  held  his  own  person  beyond  the  reach 
of  harm,  in  case  some  luckless  horse  or  cow,  straying  over 
hostile  ground  on  that  memorable  night,  should  scare  the 
fleeing  garrison  into  an  act  of  defence.  The  next  morning  he 
and  his  brave  men  were  found  peering  from  their  hiding- 
places  in  a  state  of  great  aiixiety  and  alarm. 

A  battle  had  almost  been  begun  in  Monterey  !  The  blood 
of  their  enemies  had  almost  begun  to  fatten  the  soil  of  Cali- 
fornia !  They  themselves  had  nearly  stepped  in  blood  knee 
deep,  among  the  carcases  of  the  hated  Mexicans ;  the  besom 
of  destruction  had  shaken  itself,  and  had  barely  missed 
commencing  the  havoc  of  bone  and  flesh,  which  would  have 
crushed  every  mote  of  Mexican  life  within  their  borders! 
Thus  they  gloried  among  the  bushes !  ! 

Old  Graham  stood  at  sunrise  on  the  earth  embankments  of 
the  Castello.  A  hunting  shirt  of  buckskin,  and  pants  of  the 
same  material,  covered  his  giant  frame ;  a  slouched  broad- 
brimmed  hat  hung  around  his  head,  and  half  covered  his  large, 
quiet,  determined  face !  In  his  right  hand  he  held  his  rifle,  the 
tried  companion  of  many  fearful  strifes  among  the  savages ! 
Four  or  five  of  his  men  sat  on  a  dismounted  thirty-two 
pounder,  querying  whether  they  could  repair  its  woodwork  so 


m 


w 


64 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


as  to.  bring  it  to  bear  on  the  Presiilio  or  government  house. 
Others  stood  by  a  bucket  of  water,  swabbing  out  their  rifle 
barrels,  and  cleaning  and  drying  the  locks.  Others  of  them 
were  cooking  beef;  others  whittling,  swearing,  and  chewing 
tobacco. 

About  nine  o'clock  flags  of  truce  began  their  onerous 
duties.  Alvarado  came  from  the  woods  and  took  part  in  the 
councils.  The  insurgents  demanded  the  surrender  of  the  Gov- 
ernment; whereat  the  cavaliers  of  the  Presidio  considered 
tliemselves  immeasurably  insulted.  Two  days  were  passed  in 
this  parleying  without  advancing  the  interests  of  either  party. 
They  were  days  big  with  the  fate  of  the  future ;  and  who 
could  weary  under  their  dreadful  burthens  ?  Not  such  men 
as  Alvarado.  He  bore  himself  like  the  man  he  was,  through 
all  the  trying  period,  lie  uniformly  preferred  delay  to  fight- 
ing !  lie  was  sustained  in  this  preteronce  by  his  right  hand 
villain,  Captain  Jose  Castro.  Indeed,  it  was  the  unanimous 
choice  of  the  whole  Californian  division  of  the  insurgent 
forces,  to  wit,  the  twenty-five  before  mentioned,  to  massacre 
time  instead  of  men.  For  not  a  single  one  of  them  manifest- 
ed the  slightest  impatience  or  insubordination  under  the  delay 
— a  fact  which  perhaps  demonstrates  the  perfection  of  mili- 
tary discipline  in  California !  The  foreigners  difJered  from 
their  illustrious  allies.  Graham  thought  "  two  days  and  two 
nights  a  waitin'  on  them  baars*  was  enough."  Accordingly, 
taking  the  responsibility  on  himself,  after  the  manner  of  his 
distinguished  fellow-statesman,  he  sent  a  flag  to  the  Presidio 
with  notice  that  two  hours  only  would  be  given  the  Governor 
and  his  officers  to  surrender  themselves  prisoners  of  war. 
The  demand  of  the  old  Tennessean,  however,  was  disregard- 
ed. The  appointed  time  passed  without  the  surrender.  For- 
bearance was  at  an  end.  The  lieutenant  of  Graham's  rifle 
corps  was  ordered  to  level  a  four  pound  brass  piece  at  the 
Presidio.  A  ball  was  sent  through  its  tiled  roof,  immediately 
over  the  heads  of  the  Mexican  magnates ! 

•  Bears. 


I 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CAI,  IF0RNIA8. 


65 


>i 


It  is  wonderful  how  a  small  portion  of  necessity  minp;led 
with  human  affairs  will  quicken  men's  perceptions  of  duty. 
No  sooner  did  the  broken  tiles  rattle  around  the  heads  of  these 
valiant  warriors,  than  they  became  suddenly  convinced  that 
it  would  be  exceedingly  hazardous  to  continue  their  resistance 
against  such  an  overwhelming  force ;  and  that  the  central 
government  at  Mexico  would  not  be  so  unreasonable  as  to  ex- 
pect four  or  five  hundred  troops  to  hold  out  against  Los  Rifle- 
ros  Americanos.  This  view  of  the  case,  taken  through  the 
shattered  roof  of  the  Presidio,  was  conclusive.  They  sur- 
rendered at  discretion  !  Alvarado  marched  into  the  citadel 
of  government !  The  Mexican  troops  laid  down  their  airms  ! 
The  emblems  of  office  were  transferred  to  the  custom-house 
clerk !  When  these  things  had  transpired.  General  Echuan- 
dra  was  pleased  to  say  to  Alvarado  with  the  most  exalted 
good  sense,  "  had  we  known  that  we  were  thrice  as  many  as 
you,  we  should  not  have  surrendered  so  soon  ;"  thereby  de- 
monstrating to  the  future  historian  del  Alta  California,  that  he 
and  his  friends  would  either  have  fought  the  seventy-five  with 
their  five  hundred,  or  protracted  the  siege  of  bravado  much 
longer,  had  they  been  able  to  count  the  said  seventy-five  at 
the  distance  of  five  hundred  yards,  during  the  lapse  of  two 
days !  Difficulties  in  the  use  of  optics  often  occur  in  Califor- 
nian  warfare  which  are  not  treated  of  in  the  books. 

The  end  of  this  revolution  came  !  The  schooner  Clarion 
of  New  Bedford  was  purchased,  and  the  Mexican  officers 
shipped  to  San  Bias.  Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado,  customs'  clerk, 
proclaimed  El  Alta  California  an  independent  republic,  and 
himself  its  governor.  But  more  of  this  on  a  subsequent  page. 
It  suffices  my  present  purpose  to  have  shown  how  far  this 
Alvarado  was  indebted  to  the  foreigners,  dying  in  his  prisons, 
for  the  station  and  power  which  he  was  using  for  their  destruc- 
tion. He  could  never  have  obtained  possession  of  Monterey 
without  them.  And  had  they  not  slept  on  their  rifles  for 
months  after  that  event,  a  party  in  the  South  under  his  uncle 
Don  Carlos  Carrillo,  or  another  in  the  north  under  his  uncle 


m 


66 


S  C  K  N  K  .S       I  N       T  11  i:       PACIFIC 


f\' 


m* 


4^ 


il 


Guadaloupe  Viejo,  would  have  tort)  him  from  his  ill-gotten 
elevation. 

Thus  Upper  California  became  an  independent  state,  and 
Alvarado  its  governor.  The  central  government  at  Mexico 
was  of  course  much  shocked  at  such  unpolished,  ungloved 
impudence  ;  threatened  much,  and  at  last  in  September,  1837, 
induced  Alvarado  to  buy  a  ship,  send  despatches  to  Mexico, 
and  become  El  Goubernador  Constitutionel  del  Jllta  Califor- 
nia, associated  with  his  uncle  Viejo,  as  Commandantc  General. 
After  this  adhesion  to  the  Mexican  Government,  Alvarado 
became  suspicious  of  the  foreigners  who  had  aided  him  in  the 
"  Revolution,"  and  sought  every  means  of  annoying  them. 
They  might  depose  him  as  they  had  done  Echuandra.  And 
if  vengeance  were  always  a  certain  consequent  of  injustice, 
he  reasoned  well.  The  vagabond  had  promised,  in  the  day 
of  his  need,  to  bestow  lands  on  those  who  had  saved  his  neck 
and  raised  him  to  power.  This  he  Ibund  it  convenient  to  for- 
get. Like  Spaniards  of  all  ages  and  countries,  after  having 
been  well  served  by  his  friends,  he  rewarded  them  with  the 
most  heartless  ingratitude. 

Graham  in  particular  was  closely  watched.  A  bold  open- 
handed  man,  never  concealing  for  an  instant  either  his  love  or 
hatred,  but  with  the  frankness  and  generosity  of  those  great 
souls,  rough-hewn  but  majestically  honest,  who  belong  to  the 
valley  States,  he  told  the  Governor  his  sins  from  time  to 
time,  and  demanded  in  the  authoritative  tone  of  an  elder  and 
affectionate  brother,  that  he  should  redeem  his  pledges.  The 
good  old  man  did  not  remember  that  a  Spaniard  would  have 
lost  his  nationahty  had  he  done  so.  A  Spaniard  tell  the 
truth !  A  Spaniard  ever  grateful  for  services  rendered  him  ! 
He  should  have  knocked  at  the  tombs  of  Columbus  and  Cortes, 
and  every  other  man  who  ever  served  that  contemptible  race. 
He  would  have  learned  the  truth,  and  gathered  wisdom  from 
it.  He  asked  for  justice,  and  received  what  we  shall  pre- 
sently see. 

Graham  loved  a  horse.     He  had  taken  a  fine  gelding  with 


\ 


ml 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


67 


him  when  he  emigrated  to  the  country,  and  trained  him  for 
the  turf.  Every  year  he  had  challenged  the  whole  country  to 
the  course,  and  as  often  won  everything  wagered  against  his 
noble  steed.  Jose  Castro,  a  villain  w'ith  a  lean  body,  dark 
face,  black  mustachios,  pointed  nose,  flabby  cheeks,  uneasy 
eyes,  and  hands  and  heart  so  foul,  as  instinctively  to  require  a 
Spanish  cloak  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  to  cover  them,  and  his 
Excellentissimo  were  among  Graham's  heaviest  debtors.  Be- 
hold the  reasons  for  their  enmity. 

Another  cause  of  the  general  feeling  against  the  Americans 
and  Britons  in  California,  was  the  fact  that  the  Senoritas,  the 
dear  ladies,  in  the  plenitude  of  their  taste  and  sympathy  for 
foreigners,  preferred  them  as  husbands.  Hence  Jose  Castro 
was  heard  to  declare  a  little  before  the  arrest  of  the  Ameri- 
cans and  Britons,  that  such  indignities  could  not  be  borne  by 
Castilian  blood ;  "  for  a  Californian  Cavaliero  cannot  woo  a 
Scnorita  if  opposed  in  his  suit  by  an  American  sailor,  and 
these  heretics  must  be  cleared  from  the  land." 

Such  were  the  causes  operating  to  arouse  the  wrath  and 
ripen  the  patriotism  of  the  Californians.  The  vengeance  of 
baffled  gallantry  bit  at  the  ear  of  Captain  Jose  Castro ;  the 
fear  of  being  brought  to  justice  by  Graham,  tugged  at  the 
liver  of  Alvarado  ;  and  love  the  keenest,  and  hate  the  bitter- 
est, in  a  soul  the  smallest  that  was  ever  entitled  to  the 
breath  of  life,  burnished  the  little  black  eyes  and  inflamed  the 
little  thm  nose  of  one  Corporal  Pinto.  These  were  the  wor- 
thies who  projected  the  onslaught  on  the  foreigners.  Their 
plan  of  operation  was  the  shrewdest  one  ever  concocted  in 
California. 

Since  the  "  Revolution"  of  '36  the  Californian  Spaniards 
had  been  convinced  that  the  Americans  and  Britons  were 
vastly  their  superiors  in  courage,  and  skill  in  war.  From  the 
beginning,  therclore,  it  was  apparent  that  if  they  were  to  get 
one  or  two  hundred  of  these  men  into  their  power,  it  must  be 
done  by  stratagem.  Accordingly,  Graham's  annual  challenge 
for  the  spring  races  in  1840,  was  conveniently  construed  into 


'i 


" 


w 


68 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


a  disguised  attempt  to  gather  his  friends  for  the  purpose  of 
overthrowing  Alvarado's  Government.  This  suggestion  was 
made  to  the  minor  leading  interests,  civil  and  military,  and  a 
Junto  was  formed  for  the  safety  of  the  State ;  or  in  plain 
truth,  for  the  gratification  of  the  several  personal  enmities 
and  jealousies  of  half  a  dozen  scoundrels,  who,  disregard- 
ing the  most  sacred  pledges  to  their  friends,  would  rob  them 
oT  their  property  and  sacrifice  their  lives. 

This  Junto  marshalled  their  forces  at  Monterey,  and  adopted 
the  following  plan  for  accomplishing  their  fiendish  designs  : — 
The  soldiers  were  detailed  into  corps  of  two,  three  and  four 
in  number,  to  which  were  attached  several  civilized  Indians. 
These  bands  were  secretly  sent  to  the  abodes  of  the  foreign- 
ers, with  instructions  to  convey  them  with  dispatch  before  the 
Alcaldes  of  the  neighboring  missions.  This  they  accom- 
plished. The  victims,  on  receiving  information  that  the  Al- 
caldes desired  to  see  them,  repaired  to  their  presence  willingly, 
and  without  suspicion  of  evil  intentions  against  them. 
As  soon,  however,  as  they  arrived,  they  were  loaded  with 
irons,  and  cast  into  the  loathsome  cells  of  those  establish- 
ments in  which  the  Padres  formerly  confined  their  disobedient 
converts ! 

Thus,  one  by  one,  they  succeeded  in  arresting  one  hundred 
and  sixty  odd  Americans  and  Britons — brave  old  trappers, 
mechanics,  merchants,  whalemen  and  tars — men  who,  if  em- 
bodied under  Graham,  with  their  rifles  in  their  hands,  could 
have  marched  from  San  Francisco  to  San  Lucas ;  conquered 
nine  hundred  miles  of  coast,  and  held  the  Government  of  the 
country  in  spite  of  the  dastards  who  were  oppressing  them. 
But  they  were  caught  in  a  net  skilfully  thrown  over  them, 
and  were  helpless.  After  each  man  was  bolted  safely  in  his 
dungeon,  the  harpies  proceeded  to  his  house,  violated  his 
family,  plundered  his  premises,  and  drove  away  his  live  stock 
as  private  booty — the  reward  of  the  brave  ! 

Having  in  this  manner  collected  these  unhappy  men  in  the 
prisons  of  the  several  missions,  Alvarado  and  Castro  marched 


T  U  A  V  l;  t  S       IN       '1'  U  K       C  A  I,  I  K  O  U  N  I  A  S 


69 


tlieir  whole  disposaljle  tbrcc  to  one  mission  after  another  and 
brought  them  in  heavy  irons,  a  few  at  a  time,  to  the  Govern- 
ment <hingeons  at  Monterey  ! 

The  names  of  some  of  these  men,  together  with  their  places 
of  residence  in  Calil'ornia,  which  I  happened  to  preserve,  are 
given  below. 

Those  who  lived  near  the  mission  of  San  Francisco  Bay, 
were,  Lewis  Pollock,  John  Vermillion,  William  McGlone, 
Daniel  Sill,  George  Frazer,  Nathaniel  Spear,  Captain  Mc- 
Kenley,  Jonathan  Fuller,  Captain  Beechay. 

Those  who  resided  at  El  Pueblo  San  Jose,  were,  William 
Blirkin,  George  Fergusson,  Thomas  Thomas,  W^illiam  Lang- 
leys,  Jonathan  JVIirayno,  William  Weeks,  Jonathan  Coppinger, 
William  Ilauts,  Chailes  Brown,  Thomas  Tomlinson,  Richard 
Westlake,  James  Pt  ace,  Robert  McCallister,  Thomas  Bowen, 
Elisha  Perry,  Nathan  Daily,  Robert  Livermore,  William 
Gulenack,  Jonathan  Marsh,  Peter  Storm,  Job  Dye,  William 
Smith,  Jonathan  Warner,  and  two  Frenchmen. 

Those  from  Santa  Cruz  were,  William  Thompson,  James 
Barnes,  F.  Eagle,  Henry  Knight,  Jonathan  Lucas,  George 
Chapel,  Henry  Cooper,  Jonathan  Herven,  Ji'mes  Lowyado, 
Francisco  LaGrace,  Michael  Lodge,  Josiah  Whitehouse,  Ro- 
bert King. 

From  Nativada,  Graham's  neighborhood,  were,  Isaac  Gra- 
ham, Daniel  Goffj  William  Burton,  Jonathan  Smith,  and 
Henry  Niel. 

Those  resident  at  Selenias,  were,  W^illiam  Chard,  James 
O'Brien,  William  Bronda,  W^illiam  Malthas,  Thomas  Cole, 
Thomas  Lewis,  William  Ware,  and  James  Majous. 

In  Monterey  were,  Leonard  Carmichael,  Edward  Watson, 
Andrew  Watson,  Hemy  McVicker,  H.  Hathaway,  Henry 
Bee,  William  Trevavan,  Jonathan  Maynard,  W^illiam  Hen- 
derson, James  Meadows,  Jonathan  Higgins,  Maik  West, 
George   Kenlock,  Jeremiah   Jones,  Jonathan  Chamberlain, 

Daniel ,  Joseph  Bowles,  James  Kelley,  James  Fairwell, 

Walter  Adams,  Mr.  Horton,  James  Atterville,  Mr.   Jones, 


70 


SCENES       IN       THE       PACIFIC 


Jonathan  Christian,  William  Chay,  William  Dickey,  Charles 
WilUams,  Alvan  Willson. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE    PRISONERS. 


Forty-one  of  the  prisoners  whose  names  appear  on  the 
concluding  pages  of  the  last  Chapter,  furnished  me  with 
written  accounts  of  their  arrest,  and  subsequent  treatment. 
Believing  that  the  reader  will  be  more  interested  in  these, 
than  in  any  aljstract  that  could  be  made  of  them,  I  will  trans- 
cribe a  few  which  best  illustrate  this  barbarous  persecution. 

"  I,  Isaac  Graham,  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  of  Ame- 
rica, came  across  the  continent  to  California,  with  a  passport 
from  the  Mexican  authorities  v  Chihuahua,  and  obtained 
from  the  General  commanding  in  Upper  California,  a  license 
to  run  a  distillery  in  that  country,  for  the  term  of  eight  years ; 
this  business  I  have  followed  since  that  time. 

"  On  the  sixth  of  April  last  ( 1S40)  there  appeared  to  be 
mischief  brewing.  But  what  it  would  prove  to  be,  none  of 
us  could  tell.  The  Ciililbrnian  Spaniards  travelled  unusually 
much  about  the  country  ;  and  conversed  with  the  foreigners 
rather  shyly.  They  had  threatened  to  drive  us  out  of  Califor- 
nia several  times ;  and  we  tried  to  guess  whether  they  were 
at  last  preparing  to  accompUsh  it.  But  from  what  we  saw 
it  was  impossible  to  form  a  satisfactory  conclusion. 

"  On  the  same  day,  however,  Jose  Castro,  Bicenta  Con- 
trine,  Ankel  Castro,  and  a  runaway  Botany  Bay  English  con- 
vict, by  the  name  of  Garner,  a  vile  fellow,  and  an  enemy  of 
mine,  because  the  foreigners  would  not  elect  him  their  cap- 
tain, passed  and  repassed  my  house  several  times,  and  con- 


li 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      c;ALIFORNIA.S. 


71 


I 


t  N 


Versed  together  in  low  tones  of  voice.  1  stopped  Jose  Castro, 
and  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  He  replied  that  he  was 
going  to  march  against  the  Comnjandante  General  Viego,  at 
San  Francisco,  to  depose  him  from  the  command  of  the 
forces.  His  two  companions  made  the  same  assertion.  I 
knew  that  Alvarado  was  afraid  of  Viego,  and  that  Jose  Castro 
was  ambitions  for  his  place ;  and  for  these  reasons,  I  partly 
concluded  that  they  spoke  the  truth. 

"A  liille  later  in  the  day,  however,  the  vagabond  Garner 
called  at  my  house,  and  having  drunk  freely  of  whisky, 
became  rather  boisterous,  and  said,  significantly,  that  the  time 
of  some  people  would  be  short ;  that  Jose  Castro  had  received 
orders  from  the  governor  to  drive  the  foreigners  out  of  Cali- 
fornia, or  to  dispose  of  them  in  some  other  way.  He  boasted 
that  he  himself  should  have  a  pleasant  participation  in  the 
business.  I  could  not  persuade  him  to  inform  me  vhen  or  in 
what  manner  this  was  to  take  ])lac('.  I  had  heard  the  same 
threat  made  a  number  of  times  within  the  past  year,  but 
it  resulted  in  nothing.  Believing,  therefore,  that  Garner's 
words  proceeded  from  the  whisky  he  had  drunk,  rather  than 
the  truth,  I  left  hira  in  the  yard,  and  in  company  with  my 
partner,  Mr.  Niel,  went  to  bed.  Messrs.  Morris  and  Barton, 
as  usual,  took  to  their  couches  in  the  still-house. 

"  We  slept  quietly,  until  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  I  was  awakened  by  the  discharge  of  a  pistol  near 
my  head,  the  ball  of  which  passed  through  the  handkerchief 
about  my  neck.  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  and  jumped  in  the 
direction  of  the  villains,  when  they  discharged  six  other 
pistols,  so  near  me,  that  ray  shirt  took  fire  in  several  places. 
Fortunately,  the  darkness  and  the  trepidation  of  the  cowards, 
prevented  their  taking  good  aun ;  for  only  one  of  their  shots 
took  effect,  and  that  in  my  left  arm. 

"  After  firing  they  fell  back  a  few  paces  and  commenced 
reloading  their  pieces.  I  perceived  by  the  light  of  their  pis- 
tols that  they  were  too  nmnerous  for  a  single  man  to  contend 
with,  and  determined  to  escape.     But  I  had  scarcely  got  six 


'••IS 


79 


SCKNKS       I  PI       THK       PACIFIC. 


paces  from  the  door  wlion  T  was  overtaken  and  assailed 
with  heavy  blows  from  their  swords.  These  I  succeeded  in 
parryiiio  olf  to  such  extent  that  I  was  not  much  injured  by 
them.  Ui'int^  incensed  at  last  by  ray  successful  resistance, 
they  grappled  with  me,  and  threw  me  down,  when  an  ensign 
by  the  name  of  Joa'juin  Terres  drew  his  (firk,  and  saying  with 
an  oath  that  he  would  let  out  my  life,  made  a  thrust  at  my 
heart.  (Jod  saved  me  again.  The  weapon  passing  between 
my  body  and  left  arm,  sunk  deep  in  the  ground  1  and  before 
he  had  an  opportunity  of  repeating  his  blow  they  dragged  rac 
up  the  hill  in  the  rear  of  my  house,  where  .Jose  Castro  was 
standing.  Tliey  called  to  him,  'Here  he  is!  here  he  is!' 
whereupon  Castro  rode  up  and  struck  me  with  the  back  of  his 
sMrord  over  the  head  so  severely  as  to  bring  me  to  the  ground  ; 
and  then  ordered  four  balls  to  be  put  through  me.  But  this 
was  prevented  by  a  faithful  Indian  in  my  service,  who  threw 
himself  on  me,  declaring  that  he  would  receive  the  balls  in  his 
own  heart ! 

"  Unwilling  to  be  thwarted,  however,  in  their  design  to  de- 
stroy me,  they  next  fastened  a  rope  to  one  of  my  arms,  and 
passed  it  to  a  man  on  horseback,  who  wound  it  firmly  around 
the  horn  of  his  saddle.  Then  the  rest  of  them,  taking  hold 
of  the  other  arm,  endeavored  to  haul  my  shoulders  out  of  joint ! 
But  the  rope  broke.  Thinking  the  scoundrels  bent  on  killing 
me  in  some  way,  I  begged  for  liberty  to  commend  my  soul  to 
God.  To  this  they  replied,  *  You  shall  never  pray  till  you 
kneel  over  your  grave.'  They  then  gonducted  me  to  my 
house  and  permitted  me  to  put  on  my  pantaloons.  While 
there  they  asked  where  Mr.  Morris  was.  I  told  them  I  did 
not  know.  They  then  put  their  lances  to  my  breast  and  told 
me  to  call  him  or  die.  I  answered  that  he  had  made  his  es- 
cape. While  I  was  saying  this,  Mr.  Niel  came  to  the  house, 
pale  from  loss  of  blood  and  vomiting  terribly.  He  had  had  a 
lance  thrust  through  his  thigh,  and  a  deep  wound  in  his 
leg,  which  nearly  separated  the  cord  of  the  heel. 

"  They  next  put  Mr.  Niel  and  myself  in  double  irons,  car- 


I 

I 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CAI.  (FORNIAS. 


73 


I 


ried  us  half  a  mile  into  the  plain,  left  us  under  j^uard,  and 
returned  to  plunder  the  house.  After  havinjjf  been  absent  a 
short  time,  they  came  and  conducted  us  back  to  our  rilled 
home.  As  soon  as  we  arrived  there,  a  man  by  the  name  of 
Manuel  Larias  approached  me  with  a  drawn  sword,  and  com- 
manded me  to  inform  him  where  my  money  was  buried.  I 
told  him  I  had  none.  He  cursed  me  and  turned  away.  I  had 
some  deposited  in  the  ground,  but  I  determined  they  should 
never  enjoy  it.  After  having  robbed  me  of  my  books  and 
papers,  which  were  all  the  evidence  I  had  that  these  very 
scoundrels  and  others  were  largely  indebted  to  me,  and  hav- 
ing taken  whatever  was  valuable  on  my  premises,  and  distri- 
buted it  among  themselves,  they  proceeded  to  take  an  inven- 
tory of  what  was  left,  as  if  it  were  the  whole  of  my  property ; 
and  then  put  me  on  horseback  and  sent  me  to  this  prison. 
You  know  the  rest.     I  am  chained  like  a  dog,  and  suffer  like 


one, 


>> 


Mr.  Albert  F.  Morris,  whose  name  appears  in  Graham's 
account  of  his  arrest,  gives  me  some  farther  particulars.  It 
may  be  well  here  to  say,  that  this  Morris  was  a  British  subject, 
a  descendant  of  the  former  Surveyor-General  of  Nova  Sco- 
tia or  New  Brunswick.  Having  strayed  from  friends  and 
home,  he  found  himself  in  Cahfornia  destitute  of  the  means 
of  livelihood.  In  this  state  of  want  he  hired  himself  to  Gra- 
ham as  a  laborer  in  his  distillery  ;  and  was  living  on  his  pre- 
mises in  that  capacity  at  the  time  of  the  events  just  related. 

"  On  the  night  of  the  sixth  of  April,  1840,  when  we  were 
about  going  to  bed,  two  persons  arrived  who  asked  for  lodg- 
ings. Mr.  Graham  told  them  they  might  find  quarters  with 
us  in  the  distillery.  They  dismounted  and  took  bed  with  me 
and  Mr.  Barton  ;  and  Messrs.  Graham  and  his  partner  Neil 
took  their  bed  in  the  house,  about  thirty  yards  distant 
from  us. 

"  Nothing  occurred  to  disturb  us  until  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  when,  being  awakened  by  a  loud  knocking  at 
the  distillery  door,  I  sprang  out  of  my  bed,  and  asked  who 
7 


.f 


*  i 


^ 


74 


SCENES       IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


Was  there  1  No  answer  being  returned,  I  repeated  the  ques^ 
tion  in  a  stern  voice — when  a  man  outside  replied,  '  Nicholas 
Alviso.'  He  being  a  near  neighbor  I  answered, '  very  well,' 
and  told  one  of  those  present  to  light  a  candle.  But  while 
this  was  being  done,  a  number  of  people  outside  called  out, 
*  Where  is  Graham  1  Tear  the  devil  in  pieces  !'  and  imme- 
diately afterward  rushed  with  great  violence  against  the  door. 
I  told  them  to  wait  a  moment,  but  they  cried  out  with  still 
greater  clamor  for  Graham,  and  seemed  to  rush  towards  the 
house  whore  he  slept.  Quite  a  number,  however,  remained 
at  the  disUllery,  beating  at  the  door  in  a  savage  manner  and 
threatening  death  to  the  inmates.  I  drew  ray  pistols,  and  at 
tjiat  instant  Nicholas  Alviso  called  aloud  for  all  hands  to  beat 
down  the  door.  On  they  came  against  it;  I  firea ;  and  they 
retm'ned  the  fire  and  wounded  :  e  in  the  left  side.  I  then 
seized  my  rifle  and  snapped  it  at  them  ;  they  retreated,  and 
I  escaiKid  mto  the  swamp  in  the  rear  of  Graham's  house. 
After  concealing  myself  among  the  bushes,  I  saw  fifteen  or 
twenty  men  with  drawn  swords  making  most  deadly  blows  at 
Messrs.  Graham  and  Niel.  I  hea^-d  Ankel  Castro  give  orders 
to  hew  them  down ;  Garner  urged  them  to  do  the  same. 

"  I  remained  in  the  swamp  till  late  the  next  night,  when  I 
walked  eiglat  miles  to  the  farm  of  Mr.  Littlejohn,  where  I 
remained  two  days.  Then,  with  an  Indian  to  guide  me,  I 
rode  to  the  mission  of  Santa  Cruz  on  the  north  side  of  Mon- 
terey Bay.  Here  I  called  at  the  houses  of  Messrs.  Pye  and 
Young ;,  told  them  what  had  happened,  and  went  up  among 
the  hills  for  Siifety. 

"  On  the  sixteenth,  Francisco  Young  r.'ame  to  me  and  said, 
that  Captain  Barlinen  had  come  after  me  with  a  company  ot 
riflemen.  He  assured  me  that  I  should  not  be  put  to  death  or 
manacled  if  I  surrendered  myself  without  resistance.  I  con- 
cluded after  some  hesitation  to  do  so,  a.iu  followed  him  down 
to  Mr.  Dye's  distillery.  There  I  fomd  Captain  Burlinen,  with 
eleven  Californians,  armed  wilii  the  rifles  which  they  had 
taken  from  the  Britons  and  Americans.     After  obtaining  a 


ii 


i 


TRAVELS       IN        1    11  K       <    A  t.  I  K  O  R  N  I  A  S  . 


75 


promise  from  the  captain  that  ray  life  should  not  be  taken 
and  that  I  should  not  be  put  in  irons  or  otherwise  bound,  1 
delivered  my  rifle  to  him  and  became  his  prisoner.  I  was  then 
marched  down  to  the  Mission  of  Santa  Cruz  between  the  sol- 
diers, and  put  under  guard  until  the  next  morning. 

"  Soon  after  sunrise  on  the  seventeenth  they  began  pre- 
parations for  taking  me  to  Monterey.  I  had,  when  escaping 
from  Graham's  premises,  left  most  of  my  clothing,  and  not 
knowing  in  wlmt  this  affair  might  end,  I  desired  the  captain 
to  take  me  by  that  route.  To  this  he  consented.  But  it  was 
of  no  service  to  me ;  for  I  found  both  my  portmanteaus 
broken  open  and  all  my  clothing  stolen  Mr.  Niel  was  in  the 
house.  He  had  been  badly  wou«ded  in  the  affray  of  the 
sixth.  A  lance  had  bec"  thrust  through  his  thigh,  and  a  deep 
sabre  cut  inflicted  upon  the  leg.  He  told  me  that  the  Bo- 
tany Bay  Garner  did  it.  1  saw  several  balls  stirkinjr  ni  the 
walls  of  the  bedroom  in  which  Mr.  Niel  lay.  The  floor  was 
much  stained  with  1  lood.  The  promises  had  been  plundered. 
We  stayed  at  Graham's  house  an  hour,  and  proceeded 
towards  Monterey. 

"  I  arrived  in  town  the  next  (liiy.  It  was  occupied  by  sol- 
diers, and  the  prisons  filled  with  foreigners.  They  imme- 
diately put  me  in  double-irons,  and  carried  me  before  a  body 
of  men  who  pretended  to  act  as  a  court  of  justice.  '  desired 
that  Mr.  Spence,  the  alcalde,  might  be  sent  for  as  an  inter- 
preter. But  they  would  not  allow  it.  They  said  I  must  be 
content  with  the  one  they  had  provided.  His  name  was 
Nariago.  He  was  by  ro  means  capable  of  the  task.  But  I 
was  compelled  to  accept  hira  or  none,  and  go  into  the  exami- 
nation. I  was  sworn  ;  and  then  the  interpreter  said  it  was 
well  known  that  I  h..<l  been  writing  letters  against  the  gov- 
ernment. I  asked  him  to  produce  the  letters,  that  1  might  see 
them.  He  replied,  •  thai  is  not  necessary.'  H'^  then  said 
thai  M''.  Graham  was  at  the  head  of  an  attempted  revolu- 
tionary movement  against  the  government,  and  that  I  knew 
something  about  it     1  replied  tliat  I  had  never  heard  Mr. 


'11 


70 


SCENES       IN       T  HE       PACIFIC 


ii 


l« 


Graham  suggest  anything  of  the  kind.  I  said  that  he  had 
expressed  a  determination  to  represent  to  the  governor  the 
shameful  treatment  of  Mr.  Higgins ;  and  the  outrage  upon 
the  foreigners  while  they  were  burying  their  countrymen 
at  Santa  Barbara;  and  particularly  the  monstrous  deed  of 
digging  him  up  after  burial,  and  leaving  his  corpse  naked 
above  ground.  I  confessed  I  had  offered  to  go  with  him  to 
the  governor  for  that  purpose. 

"  The  interpreter  then  asked  why  I  fired  on  the  people  at 
Graham's  distillery.  I  answered  that  1  did  it  in  self-defence. 
He  inquired  how  that  could  be.  I  told  him,  as  it  was  impos- 
sible for  me  in  the  night  time  to  see  those  who  made  the 
assault  on  the  distillery,  I  eould  not  know  whether  they  were 
the  authorized  agents  of  the  government,  or  robbers  whom  it 
was  my  duty  to  resist.  My  lile  was  at  stake,  and  I  fought 
for  it,  as  they  would  have  done  under  like  circumstances.  It 
was  next  asked  why  I  did  not  seek  redress  from  the  govern- 
ment, if  I  supposed  them  robbers.  1  said  that  I  had  no  time 
to  do  so  between  their  attempts  to  kill  me  and  my  own  neces- 
sary acts  to  prevent  them  j  and  that  if  I  had  had  opportunity 
I  had  no  assurance,  under  the  circumstances,  that  government 
vrould  protect  me.  This  last  answer  was  translated  with 
some  embellishments ;  and  the  interpreter  informed  me  it  was 
considered  highly  insulting  to  the  governor.  I  answered  that 
no  insult  was  intended,  but  that  I  was  under  oath,  and  could 
not  vary  from  the  truth.  I  was  then  asked  why  I  lied  to 
Santa  Cruz.  My  reply  was  that  I  had  lost  all  confidence  in 
the  justice  of  the  government,  and  tlew  to  the  wilderness  for 
protection.  At  this  the  alcalde  was  greatly  incensed,  ordered 
my,  answers  to  be  reduced  to  writing,  and  commanded  me  to 
affix  my  name  to  them,  together  with  the  additions  which 
their  desire  for  an  excuse  to  destroy  me  induced  them  to 
append.  I  staled  that  I  did  not  suppose  myself  obliged  to 
j)lace  my  signature  to  an  instrument  written  in  a  language 
which  I  could  not  read.  I  signed  it  with  swords  over  my 
head.     What  the  paper  contained  I  never  knew.     They  would 


T  U  A  V  E  L  S       IN       THE       C  A  I.  I  F  O  R  N  !  A  5* 


77 


ad 

he 

3n 

m 

)f 

id 

to 

It 


■ 


not  allow  me  to  attempt  to  read  it.  The  examination  being 
ended,  they  took  me  to  the  fort  and  placed  me  under  a  strong 
guard  lor  the  night.  The  next  day,  the  nineteenth  of  April^ 
they  marched  me  under  escort  of  a  company  of  infantry  into 
the  public  green,  before  the  government  house,  to  hear  pray- 
ers. After  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  they  intended  to  shoot 
me,  but  were  prevented  from  doing  it  through  the  fear  of 

Mr. .» 

I  have  other  interesting  narrati.es  showing  the  most  inhu- 
man conduct  in  the  Governor  of  Upper  California,  while 
arre  these  Americans  and  Britons,  which  I  must  pass  for 

want  o  pace.  There  is  one,  however,  that  refers  more  espe- 
cially to  the  causes  which  brought  many  of  them  into  a  coun- 
try where  they  were  subject  to  sudl  merciless  usage,  that  I 
cannot  prevail  on  myself  to  omit.  It  is  a  saying  among  sea- 
men that  when  a  ship  doubles  Cape  Horn  "  the  rope's  end  and 
shackles  are  the  Old  Man's  argument."  Sailors  in  those  seas 
are  often  glad  even  to  escape  from  a  bloody  deck  to  the 
chances  of  dungeons  and  rapiers  in  the  Californias. 


- 


*  i-j 


I  i 


"  I  left  the  American  ship  Hope,  of  Philadelphia,  in  Ma- 
nilla, and  there  being  no  chance  of  getting  a  passage  to  the 
United  States  from  that  place,  I  went  passer.ger  to  Macao,  in 
the  ship  llasselas,  of  Boston,  commanded  by  Captain  ****•*. 
On  my  arrival  there,  all  his  crew  having  left  him.  Captain 
******  asked  me  to  ship  on  board  his  vessel  for  a  voyage,  I 
and  some  others  agreed  to  do  so  on  these  conditions :  that  if 
after  serving  one  month,  while  the  ship  lay  in  that  port,  we 
did  not  like  it,  we  were  to  be  at  liberty  to  leave  her.  When 
the  month  was  up  we  all  requested  to  ;~o  on  shore.  But  he 
said  all  might  go  except  William  Warren,  Robert  M.Alister, 
and  myself.  We  were  accordingly  detained  on  board.  No 
boat  from  the  shore  was  allowed  to  come  alongside  for  fear 
we  should  escape.  After  a  short  time  the  ship  proceeded  on 
her  voyage  to  Kamschatka.  And  in  this  way  were  we  forced 
to  go  without  signing  articles,  and  contrary  to  our  agreement. 
7* 


78 


SCENES 


T  H  K      PACIFIC 


«    t 


H 


One  day  when  my  watch  was  at  work  on  deck  the  captain 
came  along  and  said  I  was  not  sewing  the  sail  right ;  and  I 
said  I  thought  I  was  j  when  he  kicked  luc  over  the  eye  with  a 
large  heavy  shoe  he  had  on  at  the  time.  A  ad  when  the  pain 
made  me  start  to  my  feet,  with  the  blood  nmning  down  my 
face,  he  said  that  I  wanted  to  kill  him  with  a  knife,  and 
immediately  had  me  put  (hands  and  feet)  in  irons.  I  remained 
so  for  half  an  hour ;  when  the  captain,  ordering  me  to  be  tied 
up  to  the  main-rigging,  and  taking  his  knife  out  of  his  pocket, 
cut  the  shirt  off  my  back,  and  gave  me  two  dozen  lashes  with 
his  own  hand.  After  this  I  was  taken  down  and  thrown  in 
the  longboat  among  the  hogs,  and  fed  on  bread  and  water  for 
a  fortnight.  In  this  situation  I  sulFered  very  much.  For  I 
was  ironed  hand  and  fJot,  the  weather  was  extremely  cold, 
and  I  was  without  shirt,  shoes  and  stockings.  At  the  end  of 
the  two  weeks  the  ship  arrived  in  port,  and  I  was  taken  out 
of  the  longboat.  My  feet,  too,  were  stripped  of  their  fetters ; 
they  were  swelled  so  much  that  it  was  with  difficulty  I  could 
walk.  I  was  kept  manacled  at  the  wrists  till  the  ship  had 
got  underway  out  of  the  harbor.  After  she  had  passed  the 
fort  the  captain  ordered  a  boat  lowered  and  sent  me  ashore 
on  a  barren  place,  where  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  go  to 
the  settlement  without  a  boat,  and  left  me  with  the  irons  on 
my  hands.  In  this  situation  I  spent  two  days  and  nights  on 
the  beach  without  food  or  water,  when  I  was  picked  up  by 
a  man  who  gave  me"  a  passage  in  a  canoe  to  the  settlement. 
In  this  settlement  I  had  to  work  hard  for  my  victuals.  After 
nine  months  the  schooner  Clementine,  of  New  York,  arrived, 

and  I  asked  Captain  to  take  me  out  of  the  country, 

but  he  refused.  I  then  went  to  Ohotsk,  thinking  to  go  over- 
land to  St.  Petersburg ;  finding  a  vessel  there  from  the  States, 
however,  I  wanted  to  ship  in  her,  but  was  detained  by  the 
Russian  government,  and  forced  to  work  for  the  Russian  Ame- 
rican Fur  Company  the  two  following  years.  After  having 
been  forced  to  bear  the  rigors  of  two  Siberian  winters,  without 
much  clothing,  and  to  serve  as  a  slave  fo.  iv*o  and  a  half  years. 


THAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIAS, 


■9 


I  got  a  passage  to  Sitka,  Northwest  America,  where,  after 
five  months'  working  for  the  Russians,  I  was  permitted  to  go 
away  iii  the  brig  Baical,  and  was  discharged  in  San  Francisco. 

"  John  Warner,  of  Scotland." 


The  next  event  in  this  poor  fellow's  life  was  his  imprison- 
.  ent  in  California.  His  sufferings  there  were  scarcely  less 
than  those  he  had  endured  elsewhere.  The  names  of  his 
companions  at  Macao  appear  in  the  list  of  prisoners  which 
was  given  in  the  previous  chapter. 

The  19th  was  an  excitiiig  day.  More  of  my  countrymen 
and  others,  allied  by  the  blood  of  a  common  ancestry,  were 
arriving  from  the  interior  in  irons.  As  soon  as  they  came  in 
town  they  were  taken  in  front  of  the  prisons,  pulled  violent- 
ly from  their  ho;  ses  by  Indians,  and  frequently  much  bruised 
by  the  fall.  Their  tormentors  then  searched  them,  took  forci- 
ble possession  of  their  money,  knives,  flints,  steels,  and  every 
other  little  valuable  about  their  persons,  and  thrust  them  into 
prison.  About  eleven  o'clock,  A.  M.,  the  American  called  on 
the  governor  to  learn  the  cause  of  this  treatment,  and  was  in- 
formed, that  there  had  been  considerable  conversation  among 
the  prisoners  for  months  past,  about  "  being  abused  by  the 
government,*'  and  that  threats  had  been  made  about  "  going 
to  the  governor  for  justice,"  and  other  'liings  of  that  kind, 
which  rendered  it  necessary  for  the  peace  of  the  country  to 
get  them  out  of  it,  or  into  their  graves.  The  American 
replied,  that  the  treaty  stipulations  between  the  governments 
of  the  United  States  and  Mexico  required  the  authorities  of 
each  country  to  treat  the  citizens  of  the  other  with  kindness 
and  justice. 

His  Excellentissimo  replied,  that  the  government  of  the 
Californias  would  not  be  restrained  in  its  action  by  treaties 
which  the  central  government  might  make ;  and  that  if  the 
department  of  the  Californias  should  violate  such  compact 
with  the  United  States,  that  go\  rnment  would  seek  redn^fiS 
from  Mexico  ;  that  the  Califoihian  government  was  the  mere 


.' 


80 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


agent  of  the  Central  government,  and  therefore  not  responsi- 
ble to  other  nations  for  its  administration.  The  Mexican 
governmf'nt  alone  had  a  right  to  complain  of  its  acts. 

The  American  replied,  that  the  department  of  the  Califor- 
nias  being  an  integral  part  of  the  Mexican  nation,  any  injury 
which  its  authorities  should  inflict  on  the  persons  and  rights 
of  other  nations,  might  well  be  redressed  on  the  persons  ar^^ 
property  of  the  Californias.  The  Governor  answered,  that  he 
thought  not.  He  was  then  asked,  what  he  supposed  an 
American  or  British  fleet  would  do,  if  one  should  at  that  time 
anchor  at  Monterey ! 

This  question  startled  the  miserable  tyrant.  That  spectral 
fleet  outside,  its  reputed  commander  in  his  very  presence,  and 
the  constant  plying  of  the  Don  Quixote  between  him  and  his 
armament,  seemed  for  a  moment  to  come  before  him,  like  a 
fearful  reality.  Perceiving  the  impression  made  upon  him 
the  American  took  advantage  of  the  occasion  to  remark,  that 
it  would  be  necessary  for  the  Californian  government  to  bring 
the  persons  then  in  confinement  to  a  speedy  trial,  for  any 
alleged  misdemeanor,  or  set  them  at  liberty  without  trial,  at 
a  very  early  day;  for  the  American  government  and  its 
citizens  required  him,  and  would,  if  necessary,  compel  him,  in 
this  instance  at  least,  to  do  an  act  of  strict  justice. 

The  quiet  and  firm  tone  of  this  address  threw  his  Excel- 
lentissimo  into  a  most  sublime  rage.  He  ordered  the  guards 
to  fire  on  the  American,  and  strode  through  liis  apartment, 
bellowing  fearfully,  and  raising  a  very  dense  cloud  ol  dust ! 
The  American,  meanwhile,  knowing  that  Californian  noise 
boded  little  danger,  stood  quietly,  awaiting  the  termination  of 
the  tumult.  It  ceased  after  a  while,  and  mildly  saying  to 
the  governor,  that  he  had  only  to  repeat,  that  the  prisoners 
must  be  tried  and  lawfully  condemned  or  set  at  liberty,  and 
that  soon,  he  walked  through  the  guards  and  returned  to  his 
lodgings.  He  had  not  been  at  home  more  than  an  hour  when 
a  message  arrived  from  Don  Jose  Castro,  Alvarado's  captain, 
advising  him  not  to  appear  m  the  streets  again,  for  he  feared 


T  R  A  V  i;  I,  S       IN       T  n  K      C  A  I,  I  F  O  R  N  I  A  8  . 


81 


I     ^ 


that  liis  life  would  be  taken  by  tlie  subalterns  of  the  insulted 
government ! ! 

'i'his  message  \s'as  intended  to  prevent  him  from  appearing 
before  the  grates,  and  encouraging  the  prisoners  to  bear  their 
suflerings  like  men  worthy  their  high  extraction ;  and  also  to 
deter  him  from  interl'ering  with  the  unholy  purposes  of  the 
Government  against  their  lives,  ^t  failed  of  its  object.  His 
reply  was,  that  he  did  not  at  that  time  comprehend  the  neces- 
sity of  Captain  Castro's  anxieties  in  regard  to  him,  and  that 
as  he  should  have  business  in  the  streets  about  sunset,  those 
who  felt  disposed  would  have  an  opportunity  at  that  time  to 
make  any  demonstrations  congenial  with  their  feelings.  At 
sunset  he  walked  down  to  the  prisons,  heard  again  through 
the  grates  the  cries  of  their  tenants  for  air  and  water,  and  re- 
turned to  Mr.  Larkin's,  to  pass  a  miserable  night — a  night  of 
unavailing  compassion. 

The  next  da^  he  "'vent  into  two  of  the  cells,  took  the  names 
and  residence  of  a  portion  of  the  prisoners,  and  learned  their 
general  condition.  They  had  nothing  on  which  to  sleep  or 
sit  except  the  wet  grounil ;  were  emaciated,  pale  and  sickly  ; 
some  of  them  could  scarcely  walk  to  the  grate  to  get  fresh 
air ;  one  could  not  stand,  and  his  fellows  from  time  to  time 
held  him  up  to  breathe  !  They  said  in  their  despair,  that  they 
could  keep  hope  alive  as  long  as  he  dared  to  walk  frequently 
before  the  prison,  for  his  presence  obtained  them  better 
treatment  from  their  enemies,  and  encouraged  the  more  de- 
sponding to  expect  through  him  deliverance  frojn  their 
sufferings !  » 

Graham's  cell  was  under  a  double  guard.  It  could  not  be 
approached.  People  were  even  forbidden  to  pass  it.  I  occa- 
sionally approached  near  enough  to  hear  the  lion-hearted  old 
man  roar  out  his  indignation.  A  great  and  brave  soul  had 
that  man.  Its  best  energies  had  been  bestowed  on  the  ingrate 
Alvarado.  He  had  made  the  rascal  into  a  governor  ;  and  this 
was  the  beginning  of  his  reward. 

The  afternoon  was  spent  in  much  perplexity  by  the  oflBcers 


89 


SCENES       IN       T  HE       1'  A  C  1  K  !  C 


f^ 


!    : 


M 


.1' 

if 


if- 

1 


of  the  government.  They  believed  the  American  to  be  some- 
thing more  than  a  Commodore.  His  precise  rank  they  could 
not  determine.  It  was  evident  to  them  that  he  had  a  fleet 
outside  under  his  command !  But  he  spoke  and  acted  as  if  he 
not  only  had  authority  on  the  seas,  but  the  land  also,  even  in 
Los  CaUfornias !  He  was  everywhere  present,  forbidding  one 
thing  and  ordering  anoth^  rushing  into  the  governor's 
apartments,  upbraiding  him  for  his  acts,  and  threatening  to 
bring  destruction  upon  the  town,  unless  all  his  capricious 
wishes  in  regard  to  the  rebels  were  gratified.  His  character 
was  an  enigma.  If  he  assumed  it,  death  was  too  light  a  pun- 
ishment. If  he  were  really  a  high  agent  of  the  Republic  of 
North  America,  his  bearing  and  acts  comported  with  his  cha- 
racter, and  indicated  that  great  circumspection  would  be  ne- 
cessary in  the  course  adopted  toward  the  prisoners. 

Mr.  Larkin  was  called  upon  to  express  his  opinion  in  this 
rexed  matter ;  but  he  very  properly  said  that  lie  knew  nothing 
about  it,  except  that  this  man  appeared  to  be  one  who  under- 
stood his  duties,  whatever  they  were;  and  suggested  that 
it  might  not  be  well  to  disregard  his  opinions,  or  otherwise 
treat  him  with  disrespect.  The  subaltern  dignitaries  thereupon 
made  their  complimentary  acknowledgments  to  the  American, 
and  passed  a  part  of  the  day  with  him  and  Mr.  Larklfl.  It 
pleased  them  to  say  many  handsome  things  of  the  bravery  and 
intelligence  of  the  citizens  of  the  States.  They  were  told  in 
reply  that  the  United  States  expected  the  prisoners  to  be  re- 
leased from  unjust  and  tyrannical  imprisonment.  The  Senors 
bowed  assent ;  but  mentioned  as  a  diflicuUy  in  the  way  of 
this  proceeding,  that  to  release  them  would  be  an  act  of  great 
disrespect  to  the  governor,  Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado.  To  this 
it  was  replied  that  such  disrespect  would  not  be  very  alarming 
— not  quite  so  serious  as  the  Paixhan  guns  of  an  American  or 
British  man-of-war ! 

Another  night  of  suffering  in  the  prisons.  "  Heat,  heat ! 
Air !  for  God's  sake  give  us  air !  air  !    You  brown  devils, 


n 


TRAVELS       IN       THE       CALlFORNtAS. 


83 


give  us  air !"  were  heard  at  intervals,  till  the  noise  of  openin"f 
day  drowned  these  agonizing  entreaties. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-first,  the  American 
was  relused  any  intercourse  with  the  prisoners.  During 
the  forenoon,  therefore,  he  walked  many  times  past  the 
grates  of  the  several  buildings ;  stopped  often  and  en- 
couraged t^e  inmates  by  his  mien  to  hope  on  still.  Mr. 
Larkin  had  fetl  them  liberally  in  the  morning,  and  furnished 
every  cell  with  an  abundant  supply  of  water.  Yet  they 
suffered  greatly  !  They  looked  on  damp  prison  walls,  and 
dragged  chains  at  their  wrists  and  ancles !  They  stood  or  sat 
or  lay  on  poached  mud  !  They  saw  in  the  future  every  image 
of  coming  evil !  Suffocation,  the  pangs  of  death  one  at  a 
time,  coming  slowly  by  day  and  among  the  sleepless  moments 
of  the  long  and  hot  night — life  pendent  on  the  mercy  of  a 
Californian  Spaniard.     These  constituted  their  condition* 

About  noon  of  the  21st,  a  half-brocd  Spaniard  rode  into  town 
at  lull  speed,  and  helil  a  hurried  conversation  with  the  guard 
around  the  prison,  and  then  entered  the  house  of  the  Governor. 
A  few  moments  having  elapsed  he  reappeared  and  went  to 
the  quarters  of  Jose  Castro.  A  moment  more  Castro  came 
upon  the  green,  issued  a  hasty  ord.'ir  to  Corporal  Pinto,  and 
repaired  to  the  Governor  The  horseman,  meantime,  gallop* 
ed  rapidly  to  the  Castello.  Immediately  his  Excellentissimo 
appeared  on  the  balcony,  and  ordered  the  drums  to  beat  to 
arras !  Soon  there  was  hot  haste  in  every  dwelling.  Wo- 
men ran  to  the  windows  and  doors  ;  children  pulled  at  their 
mothers'  skirts,  and  asked  what  had  happened.  The  men  ran 
to  the  public  green,  took  their  stations  in  the  ranks,  and  look- 
ed alternately  towards  the  hills  and  the  prisons.  The  dogs 
barked  and  trotted  about  in  apparent  wonder;  the  goats 
bleated  and  stamped  their  feet ;  and  the  horses  neighed  and 
ran  to  the  sea-side,  and  the  cattle  raised  head  and  tail  and  ran 
together !  In  fact,  such  a  time  of  locomotion  had  not  for 
many  a  day  been  seen  in  Monterey.  In  order  to  explain  this 
phenomenon,  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  show  its  cause. 


84 


SCENES      FN       T  H  K       PACIFIC 


A  law  of  the  Rt'public  of  Mexico  requires  the  citizens  of 
other  nations,  who  would  hunt,  trap,  or  trade  for  furs  on  any 
portion  of  her  ilominions,  to  obtain  from  the  proper  authori- 
ties written  Ii(;enses  to  that  effect.  Three,  four,  and  six 
months,  are  the  usual  terms  of  time  specified  in  them,  and  the 
rights  conveyed  by  them  vary,  from  the  mere  privilege  of 
trapping,  to  all  the  several  franchises  of  a  general  trader. 
With  these,  stowed  away  in  deer-skin  pouches,  enveloped  in 
the  bladders  of  the  buffalo  so  saturated  with  grease  that  nei- 
ther the  storms  nor  streams  can  penetrate  them,  they  load  their 
mules  with  traps  and  goods,  and  go  forth  into  the  wilderness. 
The  territories  over  which  they  more  commonly  travel  are 
those  which  lie  on  the  rivers  Jila,  the  Colorado  of  the  West, 
the  San  Joaquin,  and  Sacramento — countries  inhabited  by  In- 
dians only — among  which  the  citizens  of  the  Indio-Spanio- 
Bravo-Furioso-JMilitaric-Dcspotico-Republica-Mexicana,  dare 
1||S|§»  not  enter.  Into  these  wastes  the  daring  Americans  fight  their 
way  through  the  savage  tribes ;  trap  the  beaver  among  flying 
poisoned  arrows  ;  guard  each  other  while  they  take  in  turn 
their  hurried  sleep ;  eat  the  Hesh  of  wild  animals  and  beaten 
grass  seed  ;  or,  as  is  often  the  case,  lose  themselves  and  die  of 
hunger,  thirst,  or  the  prostrating  effects  of  the  poisonous  wa- 
ters in  the  sandy  solitudes  over  which  they  attempt  to  travel. 

If,  however,  they  survive  the  hardships  of  these  journeyings, 
collect  large  quantities  of  furs,  and  return  to  the  borders  of 
civilisation,  satisfied  that  their  toil,  however  hazardous  it  i  ty 
have  been,  haj  resulted  in  an  adequate  reward,  it  is  still  un- 
certain whether  they  have  labored  for  their  own  or  another's 
benefit.  The  authorities  who  have  sold  them  their  licenses,  em- 
ploy various  means  to  rob  them  of  what  they  have  so  dearly 
acquired.  The  more  common  of  these  is,  to  raise  questions  in 
regard  to  the  vaUdity  of  the  licenses.  To  this  end  the  hunter 
and  his  furs  are  seized  and  carried  before  the  Alcalde,  on  the 
assumption  that  they  have  been  obtained  without  lawful  per- 
mission. The  court  is  opened,  and  the  possession  and  seizure 
is  proven — the  hunter  offers  in  evidence  of  his  right  of  pro* 


1 


T  U  A  V  K  I.  s       t  N       T  II  K       (A   I    !  K  0  n  N  f  A  S 


86 


port),  his  carefully  preserved  license.  It  is  examined  by  the 
court,  and  if  found  to  have  been  i^raiited  by  the  political  party 
then  in  power,  it  is  declared  sufficient,  and  the  hunter  find  his 
furs  are  released.  But  if  it  unfortunately  proceeded  from  the 
anta^onist  political  sect,  the  court,  with  a  wisdom  by  no 
means  peculiar  to  them.selves,  pronounce  that  act  ot  their  pre- 
decessors of  no  effect,  and  declare  the  furs  forteited  to  the 
government.  Nor  is  the  hunter  rendered  secure  from  depre- 
dation by  the  adjudged  legality  of  his  accjuisition.  Nume- 
rous instances  have  occurred  in  which  the  officials  of  New 
Mexico,  after  they  have  rendered  judgment  in  his  favor,  have 
hired  the  partially  civilized  Indians  to  follow  the  poor  himter, 
on  his  way  over  the  plains  towards  his  home,  and  rob  him  of 
every  skin  he  has  taken,  even  his  wardrobe,  food,  animals, 
rifle,  and  left  him  to  perish  or  return  to  the  cold  hospitality  of 
those  whose  creatures  have  ruined  him. 

Instances  of  another  manner  of  committing  these  robberies 
have  occurred.  An  American  hunter  obtained  his  license  in 
Chihuahua,  went  to  Upper  California,  and  after  a  very  success- 
ful hunt  among  the  Tulares'  lakes  in  the  valley  of  the  San 
Joaquin,  went  down  to  Monterey  for  rest  and  supplies.  On 
his  arrival  he  was  summoned  before  the  Alcalde  to  show  by 
what  right  he  had  entered  the  country  and  trapped  the  beaver. 
He  had  lost  some  of  his  animals  while  fording  a  mountain 
torrent,  and  with  them  his  passport  and  license.  He,  there- 
fore, could  ^  ow  no  authority  for  his  presence,  nor  cause  why 
the  furs  in  hi  possessiof.  should  not  he  declared  contraband. 
He  was  not  pe'-mitted  to  send  to  Chihuahua  for  evidence. 
The  loss  of  some  three  tliousand  dollars'  worth  of  furs,  and 
seven  year^"  imprisonment  at  Monterey,  was  the  result. 

Another  American  by  the  name  *  Young,  who  appears  in 
the  narrative  of  my  travels  across  the  continent,  was,  by 
means  like  these,  robbwi  of  some  thmisantfs  of  beaver-skins, 
the  avails  of  many  years'  toil.  But  this  iniquitous  plundering 
has  not  been  confined  to  the  whites.  The  civilized  Indians 
on  our  western  frontier,  who  make  frequent  excursions  ovei- 
8 


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SCENES       IN       THE       p  A  C  I  1'  I  C  . 


the  Rocky  Mountains  in  search  of  furs,  have  from  time  to 
time  been  subjected  to  losses  and  the  most  degrading;  pursonal 
treatment  from  the  Californians  and  New  Mexican  authorities. 
Whites  and  Indians  having  been  injured  in  this  manner,  with- 
out personal  resistance,  until  all  hope  of  retribution  from  the 
federal  government,  and  every  prospect  of  better  morals  on 
the  part  of  the  robbers,  had  forsaken  them,  have  taken 
the  club  into  their  own  hands ;  and  the  ruined  Indian  and 
white  man  put  on  the  red  paint  of  battle,  band  together, 
make  incursions  am>'>ng  the  covyards  of  Santa  Fc,  and  even 
cross  the  mountains  and  lay  tribute  upon  the  mules  and  horses 
of  the  Californians.  Such  were  the  Indians  whose  presence 
created  the  alarm  at  Monterey.  They  numbered  about  fifty. 
And  the  vagabond  government  well  knew  that  those  fifty 
rifles,  if  brought  upon  the  town  at  that  time,  would  send  every 
poltroon  of  them  to  their  last  rest.  No  wonder,  then,  there 
was  quaking  at  Monterey.  Old  scores,  and  later  ones,  would 
have  been  balanced,  if  those  men  had  dreamed  that  Americans 
and  Britons  were  in  the  prisons  of  Monterey. 

It  was  suggested  by  several  persons  that  the  prisoners 
would  be  shot  during  the  week  without  trial.  Acting  upon 
this  hint  the  American  intimated  to  some  of  the  more  prudent 
and  intelligent  among  them,  his  willingness  to  aid  them  in 
breaking  prison,  taking  the  town,  and  disposing  of  the 
authorities  at  rope's  end,  if  they  did  not  give  them  a  fair 
trial  within  three  days  thereafter.  These  propositions  inspired 
them  with  such  new  life,  or  rather  so  kindled  into  action  the 
little  that  was  left  in  them,  that  those  who  had  strength 
enough  to  make  themselves  heard,  struck  up,  "  Hail  Colum- 
bia," and  "  Rule  Britannia,"  with  a  fervor  that  at  intervals 
choked  their  utterance ! 

I  never  before  felt  the  force  of  these  national  songs.  The 
night  was  still !  Scarcely  a  sound  was  heard  save  the  heavy 
surf  beating  on  the  rocks  of  Puento  Pinos.  I  walked  around 
the  prisons  till  eleven  o'clock,  to  the  peril  of  life,  indeed^  but 
in  the  enjoyment  of  feelings  dearer  than  life  itself. 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIAS 


87 


"  Hail  Columbia !"  I  wish  my  readers  could  conceive 
something  of  the  stirring  might  of  those  words  sung  by 
parched  lips  within  the  prisons  of  California !  Dying  Amer- 
icans sang  them !  The  unconquerable  sons  of  the  Republic 
sang  them,  though  strength  was  sinking  and  the  blood  flowed 
feebly  through  her  children's  veins  ! 

"  Rule  Britannia !"  The  battle  anthem  of  the  fatherland  ! 
Sturdy  Britons  were  there  to  sing.  Their  voices  seemed  weak 
when  they  began  it ;  but  as  their  feelings  seized  more  perfectly 
the  inspiration  of  the  poetry  and  music,  the  floating  walls  of  the 
Island  Empire  seemed  to  heave  in  view.  "  Rule  Britannia  !" 
It  came  ringing  through  the  grates  during  the  latter  part  of 
the  evening  with  a  broken,  wild  shout,  as  if  the  breath 
of  those  who  uttered  it  came  fresh  from  Trafalgar ! 

Pinto,  the  captain  of  the  guard,  inquired  the  purport  of 
their  songs,  and  was  told  by  a  Scotchman  at  the  grates  that 
they  were  "the  war-cries  of  Britain  and  America,  and  that 
the  Californians,  Mexicans,  and  the  rest  of  the  Spanish  crea- 
tion, had  better  vote  themselves  asses  and  devils  before  those 
nations  forced  the  idea  into  them  from  the  muzzles  of  their 
rifles !" 

This  Pinto  was  a  small  pattern  even  of  a  coward,  but  what 
there  was  of  him  one  could  not  doubt  was  the  genuine  article. 
He  had  a  small  narrow  head,  very  black  stiff  hair,  a  long  thin 
nose  with  a  sharp  pendant  point ;  small  snakish  eyes,  very  near 
neighbors,  and  always  peering  out  at  the  corners  of  the  sockets ; 
a  very  slender  sharp  chin,  with  a  villanous  luft  of  bristles  on 
the  under  lip ;  a  dark  swarthy  complexion  burnished  with  the 
grin  of  an  idiotic  hyena.  Who  would  not  expect  such  an 
animal  to  be  frightened  at  the  carnage  songs  of  the  parent 
of  nations  and  her  firstborn  child !  He  did  fear,  the  miniature 
scoundrel !  He  had  been  one  of  the  principal  instigators  of 
this  barbarity,  and  if  he  believed  in  the  recuperative  energies 
of  prostrated  justice  he  had  reason  to  tremble. 

In  his  trepidation  he  sought  the  quarters  of  Jose  Castro. 
This  man  was  his  monster-superior.     With  the  general  out- 


T 


88 


SCKNES        IN       THE       PACIFIC, 


lines  of  the  human  frame,  he  united  every  lineament  of  a 
thoroughbred  ourang-outang  :  as,  very  long  arms,  very  large 
brawny  hands,  a  very  heavy  body,  and  a  very  contemptible 
face,  wrinkled  and  drawn  into  a  broad  concentrated  scowl  of 
unsatisfied  selfishness. 

This  dignitary  made  the  rounds  of  the  guard  and  retired  to 
his  couch,  satisfied  that  he  really  was  what  he  modestly  called 
liimself — the  Napoleon  of  Western  America !  Pinto  took  up 
his  position  with  great  resolution  in  the  shade  of  an  adobie 
wall,  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  prisons;  and  when  I  left  the 
ground  he  was  employuig  his  knees  in  knocking  each  other 
into  a  stiff  stand  against  unmanly  fear.  Nothing  else  worthy 
of  note  occurred  during  the  night. 

On  the  morning  of  the  22d  the  governor  sent  again  for  the 
American.  He  would  not  see  the  messenger.  About  nine 
o'clock,  however,  he  walked  down  before  the  prisons  and 
spoke  a  word  of  cheer  to  their  inmates.  They  were  wretched, 
but  hope  was  awakened  in  them  by  his  presence  and  fear- 
lessness. 

There  was  evident  consternation  among  the  dons.  That 
American  signalling  the  Don  Quixote  every  morning  as  she 
swept  into  the  harbor,  and  the  idea  of  a  fleet  outside,  its  com- 
mander ashore,  communicating  with  it  by  a  fast-sailing  brig, 
and  that  commander  defying  the  governor,  breaking  through 
the  guards,  conversing  with  the  prisoners,  and  those  martial 
songs  by  night,  were  ominous  circumstances  in  the  eyes  of 
those  contemptible  tyrants  I 

About  noon  it  was  reported  that  the  prisoners  would  have 
a  trial !  A  little  ad\  ance  this !  The  government  had  begun 
to  yield  to  its  fears,  what  it  would  not  to  its  sense  of  justice. 

The  next  morning,  the  23d,  the  entire  standing  army,  con- 
sisting of  sixteen  filthy  half-breeds,  and  a  corps  of  about  sixty 
volunteers,  mustered  at  the  beat  of  the  drum  before  the 
prisons.  Twenty-one  of  the  prisoners  were  brought  out  be- 
tween the  lines,  marched  to  the  governor's  house,  and  seated 
on  the  grass  in  front  of  it.     They  were  emaciated  and  pallid, 


I 


I 


TRAVELS       IN       THR       C  A  1.  I  F  O  R  N  I  A  8  .  P9 

but  resolute.  The  American  puslied  his  wny  throu-h  the 
crowd  of  officers  and  citizens,  seated  himself  wilhin  twehe  ivet 
of  the  prisoners,  and  n)anilksU  .1  to  (hem  by  the  sincerest  com- 
passion and  most  resohite  acN,  that  if  they  died  he  died  with 
them.  He  had  agreed  with  them  to  apj)ear  before  the  piwson 
at  the  middle  hour  of  night,  on  tlie  twenty -fourth,  and  .ro 
with  them  to  fr(;edom  or  a  bras  e  death,  if  they  were  not  fairly 
tried  and  on  evidence  condemned,  or  leleased  before  the  fol- 
lowing midnight.     This  promise  they  felt  would  be  kept. 

The  trial,  as  it  was  called,  soon  commenced.  Each  man 
was  summoned  singly  from  hitj  seat  to  a  lower  room  in  the 
governor's  house,  and  callal  ui^on  to  produce  his  passport. 
Most  of  them  replied,  that  they  were  arrested  in  their  fields  or 
workshops,  and  were  not  permitted  to  go  to  their  reside  ices 
for  papers  or  anything  else. 

To  this  the  Alcalde  who  sat  in  judgment,  said,  "  I  have  no 
evidence  before  me  of  your  lawiul  right  to  remain  iu  Cali- 
fornia." 

The  next  question  was,  "  What  do  you  know  of  a  revolu- 
tionary movement  under  Graham  1" 

The  reply  was,  "  1  know  nothing  of  any  such  movement  or 
intention." 

"  What  meant  that  advertisement  for  a  horse-race,  put 
forth  by  Graham  ?" 

"  It  meant  wh;:t  such  advertisements  ha\e  meant  for  the 
last  five  years :  a  wish  on  tiie  part  of  Graham  to  run  his 
American  horse  in  California." 

"  Nothing  more  ?    Nothing  more  ?" 

This  was  the  form  of  trial  in  each  case.  The  only  favor 
they  craved,  was,  that  they  might  have  an  interpreter  who 
understood  both  languages.  This  was  denied  them.  A  mise- 
rable tool  of  the  government,  who  spoke  the  English  so 
badly  that  he  could  never  make  himself  understood,  succeeded, 
by  this  manner  of  translating  their  answers,  in  making  them 
confess  themselves  guilty  of  high  treafion,  and  othor  aisde- 
meanors  worthy  of  the  bullet. 


90 


SCENES      IN       THE       P A  <   1 F  I  T  . 


After  all  had  passed  this  ord(';il,  a  Botnjiy  Bay  convict,  hy 
the  name  of  Garner,  was  called  in  evidence  on  behalf  of  the 
government.  His  testimony  removed  all  lingering  doubts. 
He  established  the  unqualified  guilt  of  all.  Graham,  in  par- 
ticular, who  had  been  preferred  over  him  as  commander  of 
the  foreign  riflemen  in  Alvarado's  revolution,  and  whom  he 
had  previously  attempted  to  kill,  he  declared  to  have  formed  a 
scheme  of  ambition,  which,  had  it  not  been  discovered,  would 
have  dug  the  grave  of  every  Spaniard  in  California ! !  This 
man's  testimony  was  written  out  and  signed  by  his  murderous 
hand.     It  may  be  in  due  time  a  blister  on  his  perjured  soul. 

The  reported  confessions  of  each  prisoner,  also,  were  reduced 
to  writing  in  tlie  Spanish  language.  They  contained,  as  I 
afterward  learned  in  JNIexico,  things  never  said,  accounts  of 
acts  never  performed,  and  bequests  of  property  to  their  perse- 
cutors, their  jailers,  and  to  those,  who,  on  several  occasions, 
thrust  sabres  at  their  hearts  when  nearly  helpless  in  the  dim- 
geons  of  Monterey,  which  I  need  not  say  were  never  made. 
Few  of  them  could  read  Spanish,  and  none  were  permitted  to 
peruse  these  documents.  They  were  compelled  to  sign  them, 
as  poor  Morris  was,  by  threats  of  instant  death  if  they  refused. 
Thus  ended  the  trial  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-odd  Americans 
and  Britons,  before  a  court  of  Californian  Arabs !  What  its 
judgment  would  be,  was  the  painful  question  in  every  mind ! 
A  few  of  them  had  been  sent  to  their  places  of  residence 
without  arms,  or  any  intimation  whether  it  would  be  the  sub- 
lime pleasure  of  the  villains  that  they  should  live  or  die :  the 
greater  part  were  remanded  to  the  prisons.  And  again,  while 
they  sat,  stood,  and  laid  on  the  mud  floors  of  their  cells,  and 
clanked  their  fetters  and  handcuffs,  they  sang  "  Hail  Colum- 
bia," and  "  Rule  Britannia,"  as  another  night  of  wo  passed 
away !  That  spectre  fleet  and  its  commander  were  the  only 
hope  between  them  and  death.     On  this  they  leaned  ! 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-third  the  drums  beat  at 
early  dawn,  and  the  whole  military  force  paraded  before  the 
dungeons.    An  imposing  display  was  that.    The  clanking  of 


I 


i 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


91 


I 


rusty  swords  and  scabbards,  the  jinglinjr  of  loose  gun  locks, 
and  the  right-about- face-forward-inarch  operations  of  these 
bandy-legged,  pale-livered,  disconsolate  sons  of  Mars,  praying 
to  the  saints  that  they  might  not  be  annihilated  by  such  terri- 
ble events,  told  a  story  of  valor,  which  future  ages  ought  to 
hear  with  appalled  ears !  The  times  which  try  men's  souls 
have  always  been  remarkable  in  some  way ;  and  this  day  was 
chiefly  conspicuous  for  beef  and  beans.  The  quantity  of 
these  articles  which  they  devoured  at  breakfast,  was  incredi- 
ble ;  and  the  grease  and  dirt  which  they  consumed,  the  glare 
and  quick  twinkling  of  the  eyes  for  more,  and  the  panting 
obesity  of  their  persons  when  the  meal  was  ended,  indicated 
great  perseverance,  if  not  indomitable  bravery. 

As  in  other  countries  talent  is  measured  by  impudence, 
moral  worth  by  long  faces  and  stereotyped  solemnity  of  coun- 
tenance, and  rank  by  the  elevation  of  the  nose  and  the  suc- 
cessful villany  of  ancestors,  so  in  California,  with  the  same 
unquestionable  good  sense,  do  the  cavalieros  measure  their 
manliness  of  chai  acter,  their  bravery  in  arms,  their  civil  and 
social  elevation,  by  the  capacity  of  their  stomachs  and  their 
eloquence  in  boasting.  Never  were  men  happier  or  more 
thoroughly  self-content  than  the  troops  of  Monterey  at  their 
beef  and  beans.  The  events  of  The  Ri:voliition  were  dis- 
cussed with  full  mouths  and  laboring  throats.  Los  Espanioles 
del  Alta  California,  to  wit,  every  Indian  with  a  drop  of  Span- 
ish blood  under  his  filthy  skin,  were  muy  bravos,  extremely 
brave,  and  their  conduct  in  the  late  troubles  was  second  to 
nothing  recorded  since  the  siege  of  Mexico  under  Cortes ! 

It  is  said  by  some  one  who  pretends  to  know,  that  the  world 
generally  estimates  us  by  the  value  we  set  upon  ourselves. 
Whether  this  opinion  be  founded  in  truth  or  not  I  am  unable 
to  determine.  But  certain  it  is  the  Genius  of  Glory  in  these 
days  seems  to  be  in  her  dotage.  Homer,  Socrates,  Luther 
and  Washington,  wear  her  laurels  with  so  much  grace,  that 
the  old  jade  appears  to  think  it  a  mere  amusement  to  make 
immortal  men.     Accordingly  she  throws  the  poet's  wreath 


92 


S  c;  E  N  K  S      IN       THE       1>  A  (   I  F  I  C 


upon  moonstruck  rhyrastcis,  the  philosopher's  crown  upon 
heads  with  long  hair  anil  dirty  beards,  that  of  the  Reformer 
upon  apes  ^nd  brass-mounted  women,  and  even  tries  to  make 
men  out  of  male  Calitbrnians.  Sad  mistakes  are  all  these ; 
and  particularly  the  last. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  troops  were  reviewed  by  Don  Jose 
Castro.  A  little  after  eleven,  all  the  prisoners  except  forty- 
six  were  pardoned.  These  the  government  would  not  libe- 
rate. They  had  acted  a  conspicuous  part  in  Alvarado's  revo- 
lution, and  were  feared  as  likely  to  demand  for  themselves 
and  their  companions  the  fulfilment  of  the  promises  which 
he  had  made  them.  The  American  had  suggested  that  they 
should  be  sent  to  the  Consuls  of  their  respective  governments 
at  Tcpic.  A  ship  which  had  been  chartered  for  that  purpose 
(the  Roger  Williams,  of  Boston),  was  floating  in  the  harbor. 
The  doors  of  the  prisons  were  opened  ;  the  emaciated  tenants 
came  out,  chained  two  and  two,  hand  and  foot,  some  of  them 
with  no  clothing  except  a  pair  of  ragged  pantaloons.  The 
Spaniards  had  robbed  them  not  only  of  their  cattle,  horses, 
mules  and  freedom,  but  •  also  of  their  wardrobe.  They  were 
marched  towards  the  shore  clanking  their  chains.  Poor  Gra- 
ham and  Morris  were  so  heavily  loaded  with  irons  that  it  re- 
quired four  stout  Indians  to  carry  them. 

The  American  mingled  among  them,  and  dissuaded  them, 
from  a  contemplated  insurrection  on  ship-board.  Three  Cali- 
fornian  women  followed  the  prisoners.  They  were  wives, 
and  had  children.  They  clung  to  their  husbands  and  wept 
aloud.  Castro  ordered  them  to  be  driven  away  with  blows. 
They  were  beaten  with  swords,  but  would  not  go.  They  led 
their  children,  and  helped  bear  the  chains  that  were  galling 
the  bleeding  limbs  of  those  whom  they  loved. 

They  said,  "  the  soldiers  have  taken  all  our  horses,  cattle 
and  property,  and  now  they  take  you  away  from  us  for  ever ! 
May  God  take  our  lives !  Oh,  Mary,  mother  of  God,  pray 
for  us!" 

As  they  were  going  down  to  the  boat,  poor  old  Graham 


• 


T  a  A  V  K  I,  .«       IN       T  n  K       (•  A  I,  r  F  O  U  N  I  A  S  , 


93 


seemed  cnlirely  brokcn-heartiil.  The  American  said  to  lum, 
"  lie  hrave,  (jiaham,  he  hiave !  Let  no  Tennessi-an  ever 
thl.ik  of  yiehllng  in  this  way.  liaise  your  head  and  keep  it 
ereet.  Once  hitak'd  at  San  IMas,  you  are  safe.  I  will  see  you 
when  you  land." 

"  Ah,"  said  Graham,  "  I  never  can  be  a  man  again  after 
having  these  feet  bound  with  irons  by  a  Californian  ;  never 
again  !  I  could  bear  to  be  a  prisoner  to  a  brave  and  decent 
people,  but  to  be  caught  and  cooped  up,  chained  and  exported 
like  a  tub  of  lard,  by  these  here  scabs  of  mankind,  is  mighty 

bad !    No,  I  never  shall  i)e  a  man  again,  Mr. .     Here, 

take  my  hand.  We  should  have  been  riddled  with  bullets  if 
you  had  not  been  here,  could  the  rascals  have  drawn  a  bead 
close  enough  to  hit  us !  I  never  shall  be  a  man  again ! 
Irons  on  the  legs  of  a  man  who  fought  for  them,  who  made  the 
cowards  what  they  are  !  With  my  fifty  rifles  about  me,  1  could 
drive  the  devils  from  the  whole  coast  or  lay  them  away  to  rot. 
But  i  won't  think  on't.     1  never  can  be  a  man  again  !" 

They  put  him  and  some  others  into  a  boat  and  pushed  off 

for  the  ship.     "  Farewell,  Mr. ,  farewell  :  but  stop,  hold 

on ! — have  you  got  money  enough  to  get  home  with  ?  I 
will  let  you  have  some  in  San  Bias.  But  I  never  shall  be 
Graham  again !" 

The  boats  continued  to  ply  between  the  ship  and  the  shore 
until  all  were  carried  on  board.  The  multitude  then  retired  to 
the  town.  Deep  feelings  struggled  in  every  breast  at  the  termi- 
nation of  this  affair.  Alvarado  was  mad  that  he  had  not  shot 
Graham,  to  whom  he  owed  $2,235  and  other  obligations ; 
those  cavalieros  who  had  been  rejected  by  ladies  to  make  way 
for  foreign  suitors,  were  enraged  beyond  measure  that  most 
of  them  had  been  left  in  the  country.  The  ladies  generally 
rejoiced  that  no  blood  had  been  shed  ;  the  wives  of  those  who 
had  been  sent  on  board  the  prison-ship,  sat  on  shore  beneath 
the  tree  where  the  cross  was  erected  by  Padre  Junipero,  and 
wept  upon  the  necks  of  their  children,  until  the  ship  was  out 
of  sight.    The  American  suggested  that  the  town  might  be 


^ 


94 


S  C  K  N  K 


IN       T  H  K       r  A  <    1  !'  I  {■ 


taken,  and  the  perpetrators  of  such  outrages  bo  disposed  of  at 
rope's  end ;  but  the  proposition  was  diseountc^nancei!  ])y  the 
residents.  The  churcli  was  opened,  and  a  Te  Deum  sung  for 
the  dehverance  of  the  country!  After  this,  each  class  true  to 
their  leacHng  emotions,  gathered  in  knots  about  town,  and 
talked  of  these  strange  things  till  supper  separated  them  for 
the  night.  During  the  evening  some  of  the  officers  of  gov- 
ernment called  at  ]\Ir.  Larkin's,  and  informed  the  American 
that  the  governor  had  sent  the  prisoners  to  the  American  and 
British  Consuls  at  Tepic,  via  San  Bias,  and  that  the  vessel 
would  put  into  Santa  Barbara  for  provisions  and  other 
prisoners. 

The  twenty-fourth  morning  of  April  was  clear ;  the  sun 
came  up  the  eastern  hills  on  a  landscape  of  sweet  things.  No 
one  born  and  dwelling  in  the  rugged,  changing  seasons  of  the 
North  can  know,  without  experiencing,  the  delights  of  a  cli- 
mate like  that  of  California.  From  spring  to  spring  again 
all  is  friendly ;  from  morning  till  morning  comes  again  all  is 
pleasant  to  breathe  and  to  see  ;  from  hour  to  hour  the  body 
feels  in  the  air  a  balmy  blessing ;  from  moment  to  moment  the 
blood  leaps  vigorously  through  the  frame. 

Near  eleven  o'clock  the  troops  were  in  motion,  and  Mr. 
Larkin  and  myself  went  down  to  the  public  green,  to  see  what 
might  transpire. 

We  found  the  green  covered  with  people  kneeling  and 
crossing  themselves,  and  the  priest  in  full  robes  performing 
high-mass  near  the  door  of  the  governor's  dwelling.  His 
Excellentissimo  was  kneeling  with  his  officers  before  the  altar 
as  devoutly  as  if  he  had  been  obedient  to  the  commandments 
from  his  youth  till  that  time.  It  was  shocking  to  hear  him 
respond  to  the  prayers  for  repentance,  while  any  observer 
might  see  the  malignity  with  which  he  had  sought  the  li\  es 
of  his  friends,  struggling  among  the  muscles  of  his  face  and 
burning  in  his  eyes ! 

The  services  being  ended,  the  governor  retired  into  his 
house.    Thanks  had  been  given  to  God  for  saving  the  country 


1   II  A  V  1.  I.  S       I  N        I    It   K       (;  A  I,  I   I'  0  H  N  I  A  S  . 


95 


from  (lanfi^or  which  never  existcH,  aiul  for  protecting  the  vil- 
lains that  pretended  its  existence  as  an  excuse  for  shedding 
hlood. 

No  other  event  occurred  that  day  worthy  k)(  '>ci'ig  noticed, 
except  that  the  wives  of  those  poor  fellows  who  were  floating 
doAvn  the  coast  in  the  prison-ship  w  cnt  weeping  through  the 
streets,  beseeching  all  they  met  to  go  down  to  Santa  Barbara 
and  bring  back  their  husbands. 

t  spent  my  time  among  the  foreigners,  who  had  been  let  out 
of  prison,  in  gathering  information  relative  to  the  country, 
which  will  lie  given  in  another  part  of  the  vohime. 

The  evening  was  passed  at  Mr.  Larkin's.  We  were  happy, 
not  because  we  felt  no  danger  around  us,  for  there  was  much 
of  it.  But  we  were  glad  that  no  more  groans  came  up  from 
the  damp  dungeons !  That  none  of  our  countrymen  were 
calling  for  air,  and  water,  and  food,  from  those  infernal  dens ! 
Alas,  for  those  who  were  on  their  way  to  Mexico !  We 
thought  of  them  sadly  ;  they  might  be  dying ;  but  we  called 
hope  to  our  aid,  and  believed  that  better  hours  would  soon 
dawn  on  their  misery.  More  than  one  hundred  of  our  coun- 
trymen were  released  from  impending  death !  Bolts  grated 
no  more !  chains  clanked  no  more  on  the  silent  night !  And 
we  felt  in  our  own  persons  something  of  that  returning  security 
to  life  which  sends  through  the  soul  of  the  most  reckless  an 
inexpressible  sense  of  pleasure. 

The  next  morning  the  green  before  the  governor's  house 
was  graced  with  a  portly  ei!igy  of  Senor  Judas  Iscariot !  One 
ankle  out  of  joint,  and  other  parts  disarranged,  for  the  especial 
gratification  of  his  inferiors  in  moral  qualities.  The  senor  was 
assumed  to  be  dead.  His  optics  glared  rather- sorrow^fully 
upon  the  multitude  around  him,  as  if  loth  to  look  the  last  time 
on  congenial  hearts !  He  held  in  his  hand  a  scroll,  con- 
taining a  last  will  and  testament,  in  which  his  several  virtues 
and  possessions  were  bequeathed  to  various  persons  residing 
in  the  country. 
In  the  afternoon  the  American  and  some  other  gentlemen 


96 


•^  (  K  N  r;  fl     r  n     t  h  i:     r  a  c  i  i"  i  c  , 


were  invited  by  an  EniijU.sh  resident  to  a  fcsta  on  the  shores 
of  the  bay.  And  being  in  a  mood  to  seize  upon  anything  to 
divert  thought  from  the  unpk'usant  reminiscences  oi"  the  past 
week,  we  ghidly  accepted  tl)e  invitation,  without  knowing 
indeed  what  a  CaHf'ornianyi,',v^«  might  be.  Dr.  Bale  was  one 
of  the  guests,  and  kindly  conducted  us  to  the  place  selected  for 
the  ceremonies.  It  was  among  the  trees,  a  short  distance 
southwest  of  the  anchorage;  a  wild,  rude  spot.  The  old 
trees,  which  had  thrown  their  branches  over  the  savage  before 
a  white  man  had  touched  the  shores,  were  rotting  on  the 
ground,  and  formed  the  fuel  of  our  fire  !  The  ancient  rocks 
stood  around,  covered  with  the  moss  of  ages  !  The  winds 
sang  in  the  trees  !  The  ringing  cadt^nces  of  the  towering 
pine,  the  deep  bass  of  the  strong  spreading  oak,  the  mellow 
alto  of  the  flowering  shrubs,  the  low,  soft  voice  of  the 
grasses,  nature's  great  ^'Eolian  lyre,  breathed  sweet  music ! 
The  old  wilderness  was  there,  unshorn,  and  holy,  responding 
to  the  songs  of  birds  in  the  morn  of  the  opening  year. 

When  we  arrived,  half  a  dozen  brunettes  were  spreading 
cloths  upon  the  grass,  and  displaying  upon  them  boiled  ham, 
dried  beef,  tongue,  bread,  pics,  cigars,  and  various  kinds  of 
wines,  from  the  vineyards  of  the  country  j  so  that  a  /esta 
proved  to  be  an  invitation  for  us  to  eat  and  drink  among  a 
group  of  joyous  children  and  smiling  lasses.  Yes,  smiling, 
hearty  Californian  hisses.  Who  is  not  glad  to  see  me  repeat 
words  that  speak  of  the  smiles  of  women  ?  I  do  not  mean 
those  heart-rending  efforts  at  grinning,  which  one  so  often 
meets  in  mechanical  society ;  but  those  pulsations  of  genuine 
joy  and  truth,  which  come  up  impulsively  from  woman's  real 
nature,  shedding  on  the  dwelling-places  of  the  race  the  sweetest 
elements  of  the  social  state.  It  is  that  sunshine  of  our  moral 
being  which  beams  on  our  cradles,  on  the  paths  of  our  child- 
hood, on  the  stormy  skies  of  misfortune  in  the  years  of  man- 
hood, which  warms  the  chilled  heart  of  age  into  renewed  life, 
and  shines  on  till  sight  and  sense  are  lost  in  the  dark  gateway 
to  the  after  state ! 


r  i 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIA S 


97 


r 


We  ate  and  drank  froely.  Who  could  do  otherwise  ?  The 
mellow  laugh  of  childhood,  the  holy  kindness  of  maternal 
care,  the  pride  of  the  paternal  heart,  the  love  of  woman,  the 
sky  and  fragrant  breezes  of  a  Californian  lawn,  the  open  sea, 
the  giant  woodlands,  the  piping  insects,  the  carolling  of  a  thou- 
sand birds,  the  voices  of  a  boundless  hospitality,  invited  us  to 
do  so.  The  finest  dish  of  all  the  goodly  array  of  fat  things, 
the  brunette  lips  excepted,  was  the  roasted  mussels.  The  In- 
dians in  attendance  gathered  a  number  of  bushels,  piled  them 
upon  a  large  log  fire,  and  in  a  few  minutes  presented  them  to 
us,  thoroughly  cooked  and  delicious  to  the  taste.  Indeed  I 
hope  for  no  better  fish.  They  are  tender  as  an  oyster,  with 
as  fine  flavor ;  and  the  abundance  of  them  is  really  remarka- 
ble !    The  coast  is  lined  with  them. 

Our  festa  ended  near  sunset.  It  had  been  as  agreeable  as 
our  hosts'  best  attentions  could  render  it.  The  ladies  also  had 
vied  with  each  other  to  make  the  occasion  happy.  But  their 
gladness  was  forced.  A  deep  gloom  like  that  which  the  thun- 
der-cloud throws  over  the  flowering  meadow-land,  saddened 
their  smiles,  arrested  the  laugh  half-uttered,  bent  the  figure,  and 
shaded  the  warm  glow  of  joy  in  the  eye,  with  the  cold 
watchfulness  of  alarm!  Such  was  the  influence  of  that 
prison  ship,  the  last  speck  of  which  had  been  watched,  as  it 
sunk,  hull,  spars,  and  streamer,  over  the  bending  sea,  freight- 
ed with  chains  and  the  misery  of  fellow-countrymen,  that  the 
heart  could  not  be  persuaded  into  happiness  ! 


* 


9 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  Ride— Vale  of  San  Carmelo— Indians  employed— The  Surf— Bay  of 
San  Carmelo— Mission  Edifices— Belfrey  Bells— Deserted  and  Sad— 
An  Indian  Lawyer  and  his  Wife—A  Speech — Return  to  Monterey — 
Embarkation— Weighing  Anchor— An  American  Tar— Tom's  New 
Axe— General  Training  Day—  Becomes  a  Salt— Tom's  opinion  of  the 
Land  and  its  Inhabitants — A  fine  breeze — PuntoConccpeion— Islands — 
A  calm— A  night  on  deck— Landing  at  Santa  Barbara— The  Prison 
Ship— El  Mission  de  Santa  Barbara— Its  Fountains,  Tanks,  Church, 
Pictures  and  Cemetery— The  Prisoners — Taking  leave  of  them. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-fifth,  three  or  four  Ameri- 
cans and  an  English  physician  rode  out  on  horseback  to  the 
mission  of  San  Carmelo,  one  league  and  a  half  southwesterly 
from  Monterey.  The  road  leading  to  it  lay  over  an  undulating 
country,  covered  with  the  growing  wild  grasses.  Its  general 
aspect  much  resembled  that  of  the  broken  lands  of  Illinois. 
The  hills,  however,  were  higher,  the  gravel  of  the  roads 
coarser.  The  trees  were  a  species  of  soft,  low  oak,  pine  and 
birch.  A  kind  of  clover  and  soue  other  species  of  grasses 
crowned  every  knoll  and  height.  And  the  odor  of  that  vege- 
tation !  Incense  from  the  boundless  altar  of  nature !  The 
teeming  fields  of  spring  on  the  rich  hill  sides,  sending  up  into 
the  broad  sky  the  sweet  perfume  of  opening  leaf  and  flower. 

The  glancing  flight  of  the  butterfly,  the  nimble  leaps  of 
the  hare,  the  hurried  snort  of  the  startled  deer,  the  half-clad 
Indian  lounging  in  the  genial  sun-light,  mottled  the  view 
along  the  way. 

The  valley  of  the  mission  is  a  charming  one.  It  comes 
down  from  the  north-eastern  highlands,  accompanied  by  a 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


99 


clear  bright  stream,  to  the  sea.  It  is  ten  miles  in  length,  two 
miles  wide  near  the  ocean,  and  narrower  as  it  rises  among 
the  lofty  ridges.  Rio  Carmelo  winds  very  much ;  and  in  its 
bends  are  many  stately  groves,  between  ,which  lie  the  for- 
saken fields  of  the  mission,  overgrown  with  wild  grass  and 
brush.  Not  entirely  forsaken,  for  here  and  there  is  found  an 
Indian  hut,  with  its  tiled  roof,  mud  walls  and  floor,  tenanted, 
but  falling  to  decay.  The  inmates  are  the  spiritual  children 
of  the  old  Padres,  who  taught  them  rude  agriculture,  archi- 
tecture, and  the  Being  and  worship  of  God.  Since  the  de- 
parture of  those  good  men,  the  fields  have  been  neglected, 
and  the  Indians  have  sunk  into  vice  and  degradation.  A  sad 
thing  is  it  to  see  the  furrow  of  civilisation  turned  back ;  the 
thistle  usurping  the  place  of  the  wheat ;  rank  weeds  choking 
the  vineyard,  and  the  rose  trodden  in  the  dust !  But  so  it  is 
in  the  valley  of  San  Carmelo.  The  Indians  in  different  sec- 
tions were  planting  small  plats  of  beans  and  maize.  A  mule 
and  an  ox  yoked  together  were  used  for  draught. 

We  rode  to  the  water-side  to  look  at  the  surf.  It  was  a 
glorious  sight  that  heaving  up  of  the  Great  Deep  on  the 
land  !  The  shore  was  bold  and  lined  with  huge  buried  reefs. 
On  these  the  swells,  walls  of  bending  water  ten  feet  in 
height,  dashed,  broke,  roared  and  died— a  sheet  of  quarrelling 
foam — over  the  beach  for  miles  around  the  bay.  And  as  each 
wave  retired,  that  beach  of  shells  reduced  to  dust  by  the 
battering  sea,  sent  up  its  countless  hues,  from  pearly  white  to 
the  richest  violet,  dancing  and  trembling  over  the  green  lawn 
on  which  we  stood.  This  bay  of  San  Carmelo  is  a  large 
open  bight,  so  filled  with  sunken  rocks  and  sand  bars,  and  so 
exposed  to  the  winds  from  the  south-west,  as  to  be  useless  for 
a  harbor.  But  it  is  a  wild  and  grand  thing  to  look  out  upon 
in  storm  or  calm.  On  the  south,  rude  rocks,  old  trees  and 
desert  hillocks  bound  it.  On  the  north  the  lofty  pines  crowd 
down  to  its  billows.  On  the  north-west  opens  the  valley  of 
the  missions.  Over  all  its  blue  waters  rave  the  surges,  if  the 
winds  be  up ;  or  if  still,  in  come  the  great  swells,  alive  with 


100 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


porpoise  and  seal,  and  bellow  and  die  on  the  shore  of  San 
Carmelo. 

The  mission  buildings  are  situated  on  the  north  side  of  the 
valley  near  the  sea.  They  stand  on  elevated  ground,  which 
overlooks  the  bay  and  seven  or  eight  miles  of  the  vale. 
They  were  inhabited  by  a  family  of  half-breeds,  who  kept 
the  keys  of  the  church.  The  edifices  are  built  around  a 
square  area  of  half  an  acre.  On  the  west,  south,  and  east 
sides  of  it,  are  the  Indian  houses  with  their  ruined  walls,  scal- 
loped tile  roofs,  clay  floors  and  open  unglazed  windows.  On 
the  north  side  are  the  church,  the  cells  and  dining  hall  of  the 
Padres.  The  latter  is  about  forty  feet  by  twenty,  lighted  by 
open  spaces  in  the  outer  wall,  grated  with  handsomely  turned 
wooden  bars,  and  guarded  by  plank  shutters,  swinging  inside. 
At  the  west  end  of  this  room  is  a  small  opening  through 
which  the  food  was  passed  from  the  kitchen.  On  the  north 
side  and  east  end  are  four  doors  opening  into  the  cells  of 
the  friars.  Everything  appeared  forsaken  and  undesirable. 
And  yet  I  could  not  forbear  a  degree  of  veneration  for  those 
ancient  closets  of  devotion ;  those  resting-places  of  the  way- 
farer from  the  desert ;  those  temples  of  hospitality  and  prayer, 
erected  by  that  band  of  excellent  and  daring  men,  who 
founded  the  Californian  missions,  and  engraved  on  the  heart  of 
that  remote  wilderness,  the  features  of  civilisation  and  the 
name  of  God. 

There  was  an  outside  stairway  to  the  tower  of  the  church. 
We  ascended  it  and  beheld  the  broken  hills,  the  vales  and  the 
great  heaving  sea,  with  its  monsters  diving  and  blowing; 
and  heard  it  sounding  loudly  far  and  near.  We  saw  the 
ruined  mission  of  San  Carmelo,  and  the  forsaken  Indians 
strolling  over  its  grounds !  On  the  timbers  over  head,  hung 
six  bells  of  different  sizes — three  of  them  cracked  and  tone- 
less. Formerly  one  of  these  rang  to  meals,  to  work,  and 
rest ;  and  the  others  to  the  various  services  of  the  Catholic 
faith.  Dr.  Bale  informed  us,  such  was  the  regularity  of  these 
establishments  that  the  laboring  animals  stopped  in  the  road  or 


TRAVELS       IN       THE       CAI,  IFORNIAS. 


101 


furrow,  whenever  the  bells  called  the  Indian  to  his  duties. 
But  prayers  are  no  longer  heard  in  San  Carmelo ;  the  tower 
no  longer  commands  obedience  to  God ;  the  buildings  are 
crumbling  to  dust ;  the  rank  grass  is  crowding  its  courts ;  the 
low  moss  is  creeping  over  its  gaping  walls ;  and  the  ox  and 
mule  are  running  wild  on  its  hills. 

The  walls  of  the  church  are  of  stone  masonry ;  the  roof 
of  brick  tiles.  The  whole  structure  is  somewhat  lofty, 
and  looks  down  upon  the  surrounding  scenery,  like  an  old 
baronial  castle,  from  which  the  chase,  the  tournament,  and 
the  reign  of  beauty  have  departed.  An  oaken  arm-chair, 
brown  and  marred  with  age,  stood  on  the  piazza,  proclaiming 
to  our  lady  of  Guadaloupe  and  a  group  of  saints  rudely 
sketched  upon  the  walls,  that  Carmelo  was  deserted  by  living 
men. 

My  respect  for  the  profession  of  "  glorious  uncertainties,'* 
will  not  permit  me  to  leave  this  valley  without  introducing  to 
the  kind  regards  of  the  reader  a  brother  lawyer.  He  lived 
on  the  banks  of  the  Carmelo  in  a  little  mud  hut,  surrounded 
by  some  beautiful  fields  under  good  cultivation.  His  stock 
consisted  of  a  number  of  tame  cows,  a  few  goats,  uncounted 
flocks  of  domestic  fowls,  and  a  dozen  dogs.  When  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  the  dogs  opened  their  artillery  in  a 
running  fire  upon  us ;  the  cocks  flew  upon  the  fences  and  crow- 
ed terribly ;  the  pullets  cackled ;  and  altogether,  the  commotion 
surprised  our  horses  into  a  general  snort,  and  ourselves  into  a 
laugh,  prolonged  and  loud  as  our  lungs  could  sustain,  at  such 
a  welcome  to  the  residence  of  the  only  professional  lawyer  in 
the  Californias ! 

We  rode  up  briskly  in  the  midst  of  this  cackling,  crowing 
and  barking,  and  dismounted  before  the  door  of  a  tolerably 
comfortable  hut,  in  the  standing  presence  of  the  brown,  flat- 
nosed,  broad-cheeked,  ragged  Indian  Esquire.  His  head  was 
bare,  his  leathern  pants  full  of  holes  and  glazed  with  grease, 
his  blanket  hung  in  tatters.  His  wife  hobbled  out  as  blind  as 
a  fire-dog,  and  decrepid  with  years  and  hard  labor.     One  or 


102 


SCENES 


\       THE       PACIFIC 


two  other  Indians  stood  about  among  the  hens  and  ducks, 
grinning  and  squinting  at  us  in  much  wonder  and  humility  ! 
Such  was  the  group  on  the  hen-dog-Indian  side  of  the 
scene.     Ourselves  occupied  the  other. 

We  stood  at  our  horses'  necks,  one  hand  on  the  rein,  and 
a"waited  something,  we  knew  not  what.  The  Esquire  rolled 
his  little  black  eyes  in  delight  to  see  us ;  put  one  hand  on  the 
hip,  and  stood  on  one  leg,  and  then  changed  into  an  opposite 
position ;  shaking  and  giggling  with  joy  meanwhile,  and  ap- 
parently not  knowing  where  to  begin  to  entertain  either  him- 
self or  us.  At  length.  Dr.  Bale  came  to  his  relief,  by  referring 
to  the  fact  that  he  owned  more  land  before  the  mission  was 
founded,  than  he  now  seemed  to  enjoy.  At  this  he  took  fire, 
and  went  into  a  dissertation  on  the  titles  of  the  Padres  and 
Indians;  the  substance  of  which,  I  learned  from  the  Doctor, 
was,  that  the  Padres  had  taken  possession  of  the  valley  about 
forty  years  before,  had  taught  the  Indians  to  work  and  pray, 
had  given  a  portion  of  his  lands  to  other  Indians,  and  when 
civil  troubles  came,  had  killed  most  of  the  cattle  and  sold  the 
hides  and  tallow  to  ships,  for  hard  dollars,  and  with  bags  of 
these  dollEurs  left  the  country  and  the  Indians  who  had  earned 
them.  "  There,"  said  he,  pointing  to  his  blind  wife,  "  is  all 
they  have  left  me  of  my  wife ;  she  worked  hard  and  is  blind  j 
and  these  little  fields  are  all  they  have  left  me  of  my  broad 
lands." 

His  violent  gesticulation  and  tone  of  voice  led  me  to  the 
belief  that  he  was  tinctured  with  mania.  The  pow  fellow 
and  his  wife  excited  our  commiseration  deeply,  and  I  cannot 
remember  them,  even  now,  without  reviving  the  pity  I  felt  for 
the  "  Indian  lawyer"  and  his  poor  blind  wife,  tottering  about 
her  lowly  hut. 

From  these  premises  we  turned  rein  for  Monterey.  Our 
Californian  steeds  laid  hoof  to  the  rough  road  in  a  manner  wor- 
thy their  Arabian  sires.  Speed,  speed  !  Backward  the  gravel 
flew  from  their  wilUng  feet,  as  we  mounted  the  heights. 
Gully  and  rock  were  leaped  with  a  joyful  neigh !    We  reached 


h 


>    I   ( 


f 


, 


I   I  t 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      C  A  L I  F  0  H  N  I  A  S 


103 


the  highland  when  the  sun  was  a  hand's  breadth  above  the 
ocean.  His  burning  farewell  lay  on  the  verdant  hill-tops. 
Onw^ard !  speed  onward !  The  Bay  is  before  us ;  its  crested 
billows  are  gilded,  like  fretted  gold,  with  rays  from  the  upper 
rim  of  the  sinking  sun ! 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  April  the  Don  Quixote  had  com- 
pleted her  business  with  P.  I.  Farnhara  &  Co. 'a  ship  Alciope, 
and  was  ready  for  sea.  Captain  Paty  had  laid  in  a  generous 
supply  of  fresh  beef,  vegetables,  and  other  comforts  for  his 
passengers ;  the  foreign  residents  had  presented  the  American 
with  many  little  tokens  of  regard,  in  the  form  of  fruits,  wines, 
&c.,  to  make  the  voyage  comfortable. 

Eleven  o'clock,  A.  M.,  w^e  took  leave  of  our  countrymen, 
and  others  of  the  Saxon  blood,  on  the  rock  where  the  prison- 
ers' chains  had  lately  clanked,  and  shoved  off  for  the  ship. 

One  of  the  unpleasant  circumstances  attending  journeys  in 
wild  and  dangerous  countries,  is,  the  parting  from  persons  of 
kindred  feelings  with  whom  we  have  wept  or  rejoiced.  Many 
who  had  suffered  in  Monterey  were  still  there.  They  had  es- 
caped an  apparently  certain  doom,  and  I  had  felt  keenly  every 
shade  which  progressive  events  cast  on  their  fate,  or  lifted  from 
their  hopes  of  being  saved  from  the  death  of  felons.  They  were 
saved !  They  were  glad !  But  the  fear  of  returning  tyranny 
still  hung  over  them.  The  same  malignity  held  the  reins  of 
power ;  and  the  dungeon  and  bullet  were  under  the  control  of 
the  same  demons.  It  was  hard  parting  with  those  brave 
and  abused  men.  The  throats  of  villains  could  be  made  to 
bleed!  The  walls  of  justice  and  mercy  could  be  reared 
around  the  social  state  in  California.  The  acting  government 
could  have  raised  no  force  to  prevent  it.  Britons  and  Ameri- 
cans could  have  done  it ;  and  the  halter  been  made  to  claim 
its  own.     But  that  prison-ship  and  my  hearth  called  me. 

"  On  board !"  "  On  board !"  Our  boat  lies  under  the  lee 
of  the  good  barque  Don  Quixote ;  the  ropes  of  the  gangway 
are  seized ;  and  we  stand  on  deck.  "  Man  the  windlass  j" 
"  heave  the  anchor,  cheerily,  boys,"  is  ordered  and  done. 


T 


104 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


Tills  is  always  n  cheering  time  on  ship-board.  "  Heave 
ahoy  ;"  and  the  old  salt's  eye  brightens,  his  step  quickens,  and 
his  voice  rings  gladly,  as  link  after  link  of  the  ponderous  cable 
tumbles  aboard,  till  the  flukes  of  the  anchor  lie  high  on  the 
bows,  and  the  ship  is  given  to  her  helm  and  the  breeze. 

The  wind,  the  sea,  and  good  planks  between  him  and  the 
bottom,  and  the  stars  and  stripes  at  the  mizen,  are  the 
substantial  comforts  of  an  American  tar.  Supplied  with  these 
and  a  clear  sweep  from  the  headlands,  he  will  leave  the 
shore  without  a  feeling  that  it  will  ever  be  his  wish  to  return. 
Indeed,  the  real  sailor,  he  who  has  wound  every  yarn  of  his 
happy  hours  around  the  windlass,  despises  the  land.  We  had 
in  the  Don  Quixote  an  example  of  this  kind.  He  was  a  tall, 
slabsided  Yankee,  from  the  State  of  Maine ;  with  a  hand  like 
a  grappling-iron,  hung  to  a  mass  of  shoulder  and  chest  that 
would  have  been  formidable  among  buffalo.  His  deck  name 
was  Tom  ;  to  which  the  adjective  longy  was  sometimes  pre- 
fixed, as  he  explained  it,  "  in  order  to  add  a  fathom  to  its 
sound." 

When  s^ixteen  years  of  age,  he  had  heard  that  Maine  was 
noted  far  abroad  for  its  long  mortals  and  heavy  fists ;  and 
dreamed  that  he  was  not  so  deficient  in  these  qualities  as  to 
be  excluded  from  the  distinction  which  might  arise  from  them. 
He  therefore  determined  to  avail  himself  of  the  first  favora- 
ble occasion  for  reaping  the  harvest  of  that  notoriety  to  which 
he  seemed  to  be  born.  Nor  did  he  wait  an  unpleasant  length 
of  time  for  such  an  opportunity.  His  father  returned  home 
one  evening  with  a  new  axe,  purchased  for  Tom's  especial 
use,  in  the  lumber  forest.  It  was  the  night  previous  to  "  the 
General  Training-day,"  at  Portland ;  and  he  proposed,  as  the 
morrow  would  be  a  leisure  day,  that  Tom  should  test  the 
metal  of  his  axe,  in  cutting  away  a  dry  hemlock  tree  which 
had  fallen  across  the  public  road.  A  mere  suggestion  from  the 
father  was  the  law  of  his  household.  Tom,  therefore,  ate  his 
breakfast,  next  morning,  with  becoming  submissiveness,  and 
about  seven  o'clock  struck  his  new  axe  into  the  dry  hemlock. 


'i 


t 


. 


)     I   t 


k 


T  R  A  V  E  I.  S       IN       THE       C  A  I.  I  F  0  R  N  I  A  S  . 


105 


, 


)       I     ) 


It  rose,  fell,  and  clinked  in  the  hard  knots ;  and  occasionally 
sinking  into  the  wood  a  depth  sufficient  to  hold  without  his 
aid,  left  him  at  liberty  to  chew  his  tobacco,  and  think  of  his 
condition. 

The  neighboring  lads  c#me  riding  past.  They  jeered  him 
for  his  want  of  spirit,  once,  again,  a  third  time,  and  onward, 
until  Tom  began  to  think  that  his  situation  was  not  quite  so 
agreeable  as  it  would  be,  if  he,  also,  with  a  pistareen  in  his 
pocket,  were  on  his  way  to  the  gingerbread  carts  of  the  pa- 
rade ground.  To  be  kept  at  work  on  General  Training-day, 
was  at  war  with  all  precedent;  that  was  a  holy  day  for 
young  people  throughout  all  the  land  of  johnny-cakes.  A 
little  reflection,  therefore,  convinced  him  that  his  father's  re- 
quirement was  somewhat  unkind  ;  a  little  more  thought  and 
considerable  love  of  gingerbread,  demonstrated  that  chopping 
wood  on  that  day  was  not  to  be  done  by  Long  Tom  Sassa- 
fras ;  and  depositing  his  axe  in  the  corn-house,  he  went  to 
the  General  Training,  received  a  flogging  from  his  father  in 
the  presence  of  an  auctioneer  of  Yankee  Notions,  shipped  on 
board  a  lumber  sloop  bound  for  Boston,  and  from  that  time 
became  a  Salt. 

Tom  considered  the  land  well  nigh  a  nuisance.  It  had  a 
few  points  of  value.  It  was  useful  as  a  hiding-place  from  a 
storm ;  useful  as  a  hospital  for  "  a  fresh"  to  cure  the  scurvy ; 
as  a  convenient  substitute  for  a  "  log"  to  show  when  the 
voyage  is  ended  ;  as  a  lumber  yard  for  the  wherewithal  to 
build  keels ;  and  as  a  place  in  which  small  fish  may  rendez- 
vous. But  the  sea  was  a  greater  part  of  the  Globe;  the 
home  of  freemen  ;  where  they  have  a  plenty  of  sound  air  to 
breathe,  and  nothing  but  the  will  of  Heaven  to  curtail  their 
movements.  "  On  the  land  it  is  otherwise.  One's  tarpaulin 
is  knocked  off  at  every  second  step  on  their  brick-decked 
gangways ;  every  lubber  in  straps  and  tights  who  sees  fit  to 
pass  before  you  can  up  helm,  runs  into  you,  carries  away  your 

because 


y 


bowsprit,  and  d... 

the  walls  of  a  building  to  give  him  lee-way.     And  then  the 


I  your  eyes 


f 


li 


lOG 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


land  is  all  mud  and  reefs ;  everything  upon  it  is  dirty  ;  the 
Ladies,  God  knows  I  love  the  Ladies  and  pity  them,  can't 
keep  themselves  tidy.  I've  seen  many  a  brace  of  them  that 
required  a  fortnight's  holy-stoning  to  get  down  to  their  natu-^ 
ral  color.  They  are  obliged  to  paigt  themselves  to  cover  up 
the  dirt  and  keep  from  looking  weather-beaten.  I  never 
knew  a  sensible  sailor  that  wasn't  glad  to  leave  the  land  for 
the  glorious  old  sea.  Their  ideas,  those  land  lubbers,  about 
what  is  comfortable  and  beautiful,  are  not  worth  a  ball  of 
spunyarn.  They  talk  to  you  about  the  dangers  of  the  sea, 
just  as  if  there  was  no  lee  coast  to  run  one's  head  and  toes 
against  on  the  land ;  about  the  shady  groves  on  a  May-day, 
just  as  if  there  were  no  May-day  shade  under  the  brave  old 
canvass  of  Neptune;  and  about  the  purling  brooks  and  the 
music  of  birds,  just  as  if  there  were  neither  water  at  sea,  nor 
any  albatross  to  sail  and  scream  in  the  sun,  nor  happy  petrels 
to  sing  in  the  storm.  And  about  being  buried  in  the  sea ! 
This  they  think  is  a  dreadful  thing !  They  thrust  their  eyes 
half  out  of  their  heads  when  you  tell  them  it  is  better  to  be 
eaten  clean  up  by  a  decent  shark,  than  to  be  stuffed  away  a 
few  feet  under  ground  among  toads  and  worms  and  other 
varmints !  And  if  you  tell  them  that  when  a  fellow  dies  at 
sea,  they  sew  him  up  in  a  strong  bit  of  canvas,  and  hang  a 
weight  to  his  feet,  read  prayers  over  him  and  drop  him 
solemnly  into  the  ocean,  and  he  goes  down  into  the  clear  clean 
water,  two  or  three  miles  perhaps,  and  there  sleeps  high 
above  the  bottom,  high  above  dirt  and  worms,  the  lubbers 
think  he  is  out  of  the  latitude  of  the  resurrection  and  Heaven 
and  all.  I  am  for  the  sea.  I  would  not  mind  shipping  on 
the  quarter-deck  a  voyage  or  two,  to  see  how  it  would  seem 
to  whistle  the  boys  into  the  top-gallant  stays  in  a  dead  north- 
easter. But  I  should  want  to  be  before  the  mast.  That's 
the  home  for  me,  boys." 

"  Haul  taut  the  weather  main  brace  there" ! 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir ;"  and  away  skipped  our  Maine  boy  to  his 
duty. 


i 


. 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


107 


n 


We  had  a  fine  breeze  from  the  time  we  weighed,  till  twelve 
o'clock  on  the  twenty-ninth,  when  the  wind  died  gradually 
away  to  a  calm.  During  the  night  we  lay  off  Punto  Con- 
cepcion  ;  a  rough  ragged  point  of  land  forty  miles  north-west 
uf  Santa  Barbara.  On  the  thirtieth,  a  light  breeze  bore  us 
early  in  the  morning  past  San  Miguel.  This  is  an  island, 
about  fifteen  miles  from  the  coast.  It  is  ten  miles  in  circum- 
ference, with  a  rocky,  barren  and  dry  surface,  marked  here  and 
there  with  a  few  fruitful  spots  and  streams  of  water.  At 
nine  o'clock  we  were  off  Santa  Rosa ;  an  island  about  the 
same  distance  from  the  land,  twenty  miles  in  circumference, 
piled  with  lofty  barren  hills,  interspersed  with  a  few  forests 
and  fertile  districts.  Next  came  Santa  Cruz;  an  oblong 
island  forty  miles  in  circumference,  with  some  woodlands  and 
fruitful  vales.  Farther  off  shore  and  southward,  are  the 
islands  of  Santa  Barbara,  San  Nicholas  and  San  Clemente. 
They  lie  in  a  line  running  south-east  and  north-west,  and 
form  the  outer  wall  of  the  roadstead,  called  the  Canal  de 
Santa  Barbara.  These  islands  have  much  high  land,  com- 
posed of  dark  shining  rocks,  apparently  of  volcanic  origin. 
They  are  partially  covered  with  trees,  but  a  greater  portion 
of  their  surface  is  barren  sands  and  rocks.  They  are  densely 
populated  with  goats. 

Near  night  a  calm  came  on,  and  our  sails,  after  flapping 
awhile,  hung  lifeless  upon  the  spars.  This  was  a  very  annoy- 
ing circumstance.  All  on  board  felt  extremely  anxious  to  be 
in  Santa  Barbara  that  night  lest  the  prison-ship  should  leave 
before  we  arrived.  About  twelve  o'clock,  however,  a  slight 
breeze  sprang  up,  which  bore  us  along  two  knots  the 
hour.  The  air  was  so  bland  on  deck  that  I  chose  a  berth 
among  some  loose  sails  in  the  long  boat,  in  preference  to  the 
heated  cabin.  It  was  a  pure  night.  No  vapors  obscured  the 
sky.  No  harsh  winds  disturbed  the  waters.  Every  living 
thing  seemed  reposing  and  smiling  in  its  dreams  of  joy.  The 
birds  on  the  land  and  water  should  be  excepted.    They  were 


'' 


108 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


.  I 


twittering  softly  one  to  another,  coursing  through  the  air  and 
marshalhng  and  gabbling  among  the  waves,  as  if  keeping 
vigil  over  the  slumbers  of  Nature  ! 

The  coast  from  Monterey  to  the  Canal  de  Santa  Barbara  is 
broken  into  elevated  hills,  fringed  with  forests  of  pine  and  oak, 
and  covered  with  the  wild  grasses.  From  these  flow  many 
valuable  little  streams,  which  gurgle  and  plash  down  deep 
and  verdant  ravines  to  the  sea.  It  is  a  beautiful  wilderness ; 
a  country  for  the  wild  horse,  the  mighty  grisly  bear,  the  un- 
doraesticated  cattle  of  a  thousand  hills  j  a  blithe  domain  for 
the  human  race,  when  true  and  valiant  men  shall  govern  it. 

The  first  sound  that  fell  upon  my  ear  on  the  first  day  of 
May,  was  the  rippling  of  the  water  at  the  ship's  side.  She 
was  moving  slowly  down  the  Canal  de  Santa  Barbara.  At 
nine  o'clock  we  cast  anchor  before  the  town,  lowered  the 
boat  and  shot  away  to  the  beach.  The  prison-ship  was  lying 
at  anchor  in  the  roadstead !  Our  countrymen  were  incarce- 
rated at  the  mission !  We  might  be  of  some  service  to  them ; 
and  that  expectation  gave  us  all  infinite  pleasure,  in  being 
again  in  their  neighborhoo<l. 

Santa  Barbara  is  situated  on  an  inclined  plane,  which  rises 
gradually  from  the  sea  side  to  a  range  of  picturesque  high- 
lands, three  and  a  half  miles  from  the  sea.  The  town  itself  is 
three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  landing.  The  houses  are 
chiefly  built  in  the  Spanish  mode,  adobie  walls,  and  roofs  of  tile. 
These  tiles  are  made  of  clay,  fashioned  into  half  cylinders, 
and  burned  like  brick.  In  using  them,  the  first  layer  is  placed 
hollow  side  up ;  the  second  inversely,  so  as  to  lock  over  the 
first.  Their  ends  overlap  each  other  as  common  shingles  do. 
This  roofing  serves  very  well  in  dry  weather.  But  when  the 
driving  southwesters  of  the  winter  season  come  on,  it  affords 
a  poor  shelter.  Very  few  of  the  houses  have  glass  windows. 
Open  spaces  in  the  walls,  protected  with  bars  of  wood,  and 
plank  shutters,  serve  instead.  Mr.  A.  B.  Thompson,  a  wealthy 
and  hospitable  American  merchant,  has  erected  a  residence 


^II 


i 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFOBNIAS. 


109 


•> 


>■» 


in  the  centre  of  the  town,  which  bears  very  striking  testimo- 
ny to  his  being  a  civilized  man. 

There  is  nn  old  Catholic  mission,  one  mile  and  three 
quarters  above  the  town,  called  El  Mission  de  Santa  Barbara. 
The  church  itself  is  a  stone  edifice,  with  two  towers  on  the 
end  towards  the  town,  and  a  high  gable  between  them.  The 
friars  complimented  Father  Time,  by  painting  on  the  latter 
something  in  the  shape  of  a  clock  dial.  In  the  towers  are 
hung  a  number  of  rich  toned  bells,  brought  from  old  Spain 
nearly  a  hundred  years  ago.  The  roof  is  covered  with  burnt 
clay  tiles,  laid  in  cement.  The  residence  of  the  Padres,  also 
built  of  stone,  forms  a  wing  with  the  church  towards  the  sea. 
The  prisons  form  another,  towards  the  highlands.  Hard  by 
are  clusters  of  Indian  huts,  constructed  of  adobies  and  tile, 
standing  in  rows,  with  streets  between. 

The  old  Padres  seem  to  have  united  with  their  missionary 

zeal  a  strong  sense  of  comfort  and  taste.    They  laid  off  a 

beautiful  garden,  a  few  rods  from  the  church,  surrounded  it  with 

a  high  substantial  fence  of  stone  laid  in  Roman  cement,  and 

planted  it  with  limes,  almonds,  apricots,  peaches,  apples, 

pears,  quinces,  &c.,  which  are  now  annually  yielding  their 

several  fruits  in  abundance.     Before  the  church  they  erected 

a  series  of  concentric  urn  fountains,  ten  feet  in  height,  from 

the  top  of  which  the  pure  liquid  bursts,  and  falls  from  one  to 

another  till  it  reaches  a  large  pool  at  the  base ;  from  this  it 

is  led  off  a  short  distance  to  the  statue  of  a  grisly  bear,  from 

whose  mouth  it  is  ejected  into  a  reservoir  of  solid  masonry, 

six  feet  wide  and  seventy  long.     From  the  pool  at  the  base 

of  the  urn  fountains  water  is  taken  for  drinking  and  household 

use.    The  long   reservoir  is  the  theatre   of   the  battling, 

plashing,  laughing  and  scolding  of  the  washing-day.     Around 

these  fountains  are  solid,  cemented  stone  pavements,  and  ducts 

to  carry  off  the  surplus  water.     Nothmg  of  the  kind  can  be  in 

better  taste,  more  substantial,  or  useful. 

Above  the  church  and  its  cloisters,  they  brought  the  water 

10 


i       ) 


110 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


around  the  brow  of  a  green  hill,  in  an  open  stone  aqueduct, 
a  rapid,  noisy  rivulet,  to  a  square  reservoir  of  beautiful  ma- 
sonry. Below,  and  adjoining  this,  are  the  ruins  of  the  Pa- 
dres' grist-mill.  Nothing  is  left  of  its  interior  structure,  but 
the  large  oaken  ridgepole.  Near  the  aqueduct  which  car- 
ries the  water  into  the  reservoir  of  the  mills,  stands  a  small 
stone  edifice  ten  feet  in  length  by  six  in  width.  This  is 
the  bath.  Over  the  door,  outside,  is  the  representation  of  a 
lion's  head,  from  which  pours  a  beautiful  jet  of  water.  This 
little  structure  is  in  a  good  state  of  preservation.  A  cross  sur- 
mounts it,  as,  indeed,  it  does  everything  used  by  the  Catholic 
missionaries  of  these  wilderness  regions.  Below  the  ruins  of 
the  grist-mill  is  another  tank  one  hundred  and  twenty-feet 
square,  by  twenty  deep,  constructed  like  the  one  above.  In 
this  was  collected  water  for  supplying  the  fountains,  irrigating 
tlie  grounds  below,  and  for  the  propulsion  of  different  kinds 
of  machinery.  Below  the  mission  was  the  tan-yard,  to  which 
the  water  was  carried  vp  an  aqueduct,  built  on  the  top  of  a 
stone  wall,  from  four  to  six  feet  high.  Here  was  manufac- 
tured the  leather  used  in  making  harnesses,  saddles,  bridles, 
and  Indian  clothing.  They  cultivated  large  tracts  of  land  with 
maize,  wheat,  oats,  peas,  potatoes,  beans,  and  grapes.  Their 
old  vineyards  still  cover  the  hill-sides.  When  the  mission 
was  at  the  height  of  its  prosperity,  there  were  several  hun- 
dred Indians  laboring  in  its  fields,  and  many  thousands  of  cat- 
tle and  horses  grazing  in  its  pastures.  But  its  splendor  has 
departed,  and  with  it  its  usefulness.  The  Indians  who  were 
made  comfortable  on  these  premises,  are  now  squalid  and  mise- 
rable. The  fields  are  a  waste!  Nothing  but  the  church 
retains  its  ancient  appearance.  We  will  enter  and  describe 
its  interior.  It  is  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  long  by  sixty  in 
width.  Its  walls  are  eight  feet  in  thickness.  The  height  of 
tl^  nave  is  forty  feet.  On  the  wall,  to  the  right,  hangs  a 
picture  representing  a  king  and  a  monk  up  to  their  middle  in 
the  flames  of  purgatory.    Their  posture  is  that  of  prayer  and 


ii 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


Ill 


penitence  ;  but  their  faces  do  not  indicate  any  decided  con- 
sciousness of  the  blistering  foothold  on  which  they  stand. 
On  the  contrary,  they  wear  rather  the  quiet  aspect  of  persons 
who  love  their  ease,  and  have  an  indolent  kind  of  pleasure  in 
the  scenes  around  them.  On  the  other  side,  near  the  door  of 
the  confessional,  is  a  picture  of  Hell.  The  Devil  and  his  staff 
are  represented  in  active  service.  The  flames  of  his  furnace 
are  curling  around  his  victnis,  with  a  broad  red  glare,  that 
would  have  driven  Titian  to  madness.  The  old  Monarch 
himself  appears  hotly  engaged  in  wrapping  serpents  of  fire 
around  a  beautiful  female  figure,  and  his  subalterns,  with  flam- 
ing tridents,  are  casting  torments  on  others,  whose  sins  are 
worthy  of  less  honorable  notice.  Immediately  before  the 
altar  is  a  trap-door,  opening  into  the  vaults,  where  are  buried 
the  missionary  Padres.  Over  the  altar  are  many  rich  images 
of  the  saints.  Among  them  is  that  of  San  Francisco,  the 
patron  of  the  missions  of  Upper  California.  Tliree  silver 
candlesticks,  six  feet  high,  and  a  silver  crucifix  of  the  same 
height,  with  a  golden  image  of  the  Saviour  suspended  on  it, 
stand  within  the  chancel.  To  the  left  of  the  altar  is  the  sa- 
cristy, or  priest's  dressing-room.  It  is  eighteen  fett  square, 
splendidly  carpeted,  and  furnished  with  a  wardrobe,  chairs, 
mirrors,  tables,  ottoman,  &c. 

In  an  adjoining  room  of  the  same  size  are  kept  the  para- 
phernalia of  worship.  Among  these  are  a  receptacle  of  the 
host,  of  massive  gold  in  pyramidal  form,  and  weighing  at 
least  ten  pounds  avoirdupois,  and  a  convex  lens  set  in  a  block 
of  gold,  weighing  a  number  of  pounds,  through  which,  on  cer- 
tain occasions,  the  light  is  thrown  so  as  to  give  the  appearance 
of  an  eye  of  consuming  fire. 

A  door  in  the  eastern  wall  of  the  church  leads  from  the 
foot  of  the  chancel  to  the  cemetery.  It  is  a  small  piece  of 
ground  enclosed  by  a  high  wall,  and  consecrated  to  the  burial 
cf  those  Indians  who  die  in  the  faith  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
It  is  curiously  arranged.    Walls  of  solid  masonry,  six  feet 


i 


li 


I! 
1 


V.       I 


112 


SCENES      IN      THE       PACIFIC 


apart,  arc  sunk  six  feet  in  depth,  and  to  a  level  with  the  sur- 
face. Between  these  the  dead  are  buried  in  such  manner  that 
their  feet  touch  one  wall  and  their  heads  the  other.  These 
grounds  have  been  long  since  filled.  In  order,  however,  that 
no  Christian  Indian  may  be  buried  in  a  less  holy  place,  the 
bones,  after  the  flesh  has  decayed,  are  exhumed  and  deposited 
in  a  little  building  on  one  corner  of  the  premises.  I  entered 
this.  Three  or  four  cart-loads  of  skulls,  ribs,  spines,  leg-bones, 
arm-bones  &c.,  lay  in  one  corner.  Beside  them  stood  two 
hand-hearses  with  a  small  cross  attached  to  each.  About  the 
walls  hung  the  mould  of  death  ! 

On  the  first  of  May  the  American  made  application  for 
permission  to  see  the  prisoners,  and  was  refused.  He  had 
heard  that  they  were  in  want  of  food,  and  proposed  to  supply 
them ;  but  was  forbidden  by  Jose  Castro,  the  officer  in  charge. 
The  prison-ship  had  arrived  at  Santa  Barbara  on  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  April,  and  landed  forty-one  of  the  prisoners.  Four 
others  were  retained  on  board  to  work.  These  forty-one  men, 
during  the  whole  passage  from  Monterey,  bad  been  chained  to 
long  bars  of  iron  passing  transvere  3ly  across  the  hold  of  the 
ship.  T^y  were  not  permitted  to  go  on  deck,  nor  even  to 
stand  on  their  feet.  A  bucket  was  occasionally  passed  about 
for  particular  purposes,  but  so  seldom  as  to  bo  of  little  use. 
They  were  furnished  with  a  mere  morsel  of  food,  and  that  of 
the  worst  quality.  Of  w^ater,  they  had  scarcely  enough  to 
prevent  death  from  thirst ;  and  so  small  and  close  was  the 
place  in  which  they  were  chained  that  it  was  not  uncommon 
for  the  more  debilitated  to  faint  and  lie  some  time  in  a  lifeless 
state.  "When  they  landed,  many  of  them  had  become  so 
weak  that  they  could  not  get  out  of  the  boat  without  aid. 
Their  companions  in  chains  assisted  them,  although  threaten- 
ed with  instant  death  if  they  did  so.  After  being  set  ashore, 
they  were  marched  in  the  midst  of  drawn  swords  and  fixed 
bayonets,  dragging  their  chains  around  bleeding  limbs,  one 
mile  and  three-quarters,  to  the  mission  of  Santa  Barbara  I 


W 


iri 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIAS. 


113 


SO 

lid. 
jn- 
re. 


:al 


-) 


^Ei 


Here  they  were  put  into  a  single  room  of  the  mission  prisons, 
without  floor  or  means  of  ventilation.  The  bottom  of  the 
cell  was  soft  mud !  In  this  damp  dungeon,  without  food  or 
water,  these  poor  fellows  remained  two  days  and  nights ! 
They  had  not  even  straw  on  which  to  sleep ! 

At  the  end  of  this  time  it  coming  to  the  ears  of  the  Friar  in 
charge  of  the  mission,  that  one  of  them  was  dying  of  hunger 
and  thirst,  he  repaired  to  the  prison  and  inquired  of  Pinto,  the 
corporal  of  the  guard,  if  such  were  the  fact !  The  miniature 
monster  answered,  that  he  did  not  know.  The  Friar  replied, 
"  are  you  an  officer  and  a  Catholic,  and  do  not  know  the  state 
of  your  prisoners !  You,  sir,  are  an  officer  of  to-day,  and 
should  not  be  one  to-morrow."  The  good  man  entered 
the  cell ;  found  one  of  the  Englishmen  speechless ;  admin- 
istered baptism,  and  removed  him  to  the  house  of  a  kind 
family,  where  I  found  him  on  my  arrival ;  still  speechless  and 
incapable  of  motion.  The  Friar  extended  his  kindness  to  the 
other  prisoners.  He  ordered  Castro  to  furnish  them  food 
and  water.  But  the  villain,  evading  so  far  as  he  was  able, 
gave  them  barely  enough  of  each  to  tantalize  them,  until  the 
arrival  of  the  American  in  the  Don  Quixote;  when  that 
fleet,  laying  off"  the  coast,  commanded  by  such  a  man,  charm- 
ed his  benevolence  and  mercy  into  activity.  From  the  first 
of  May,  therefore,  they  had  food  and  water,  and  were  per- 
mitted to  take  the  air  and  bathe  daily. 

On  the  fourth,  the  American  was  permitted  to  see  the  prison- 
ers. They  had  been  scrubbing  themselves  at  the  great  tank ; 
and  were  allowed,  at  his  suggestion,  to  take  their  dinner  in  the 
open  air.  They  had  evidently  suffered  exceedingly  since 
they  left  Monterey;  for  their  countenances  had  lost  the 
little  color  which  the  dungeons  of  that  place  had  left  them. 
Their  hands  looked  skeleton-wise ;  their  eyes  were  deeply 
sunken  in  their  sockets ;  they  tottered  when  they  walked ! 
Poor  men!  For  no  other  fault  than  their  Anglo-Saxon 
blood,  they  fared  like  felons !  They  had  a  long  voyage,  and 
slavery  in  the  mines  of  Mexico  before  them,  and  were  sad. 
10* 


I 


114 


S  C  K  N  E  S      IN       THE       PACIFIC, 


They  asked  the  American  if  he  would  lead  them  in  an  attack 
upon  the  guard.  But  he  pointed  out  the  hopelessness  of  such 
an  attempt  in  their  enfeebled  condition,  and  comforted  them 
Viith.  the  reiterated  assurance  that  he  would  meet  them  at  San 
Bias. 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  their  dinner  ar- 
rived. The  first  course  consisted  of  batter  cakes,  called 
tortillas,  with  a  small  quantity  of  boiled  beef  hock.  A  sad 
pittance,  and  of  the  meanest  quality.  But  one  of  them  told 
the  American  with  much  pleasantry,  that  it  was  an  attempt 
to  surprise  him  with  ihe  richness  of  their  fare !  The  next 
course  was  a  soup.  I  stood  by  the  kettle  v/hile  they  dipped 
and  ate  it.  As  they  approached  the  bottom  of  the  vessel 
they  hauled  up  two  old  cloths  of  the  most  filthy  description, 
besides  other  things  which  it  would  ill  become  me  to  name ! 
They  ate  no  more !  Starvation  itself  lost  its  appetite  at  such 
a  spectacle  !  The  American  remonstrated  with  the  officer  in 
charge  for  allowing  such  baseness.  The  fellow  promised. 
But  why  speak  of  a  Spaniard's  promise  1  It  can  be  likened 
to  nothing  so  well  as  his  justice.  Both  are  as  unreliable  to 
one  in  his  power,  as  the  thunder-cloud  at  night  is,  for  light 
to  him  who  treads  on  precipices ! 

As  this  w^as  the  last  interview  which  we  expected  to  have 
with  the  prisoners  before  they  would  leave  California,  it  was 
suggested  that  they  should  write  to  their  friends  at  home.  To 
this  they  gladly  assented.  We  therefore  furnished  them  with 
implements  for  that  purpose.  But  the  jealous  tyrants  in 
cliarge  saw  fit  to  prohibit  this  last  consolation  of  the  doom- 
ed !  While,  however,  the  villains  were  engaged  in  consulta- 
tion about  it,  I  took  their  names  and  places  of  residence,  and 
promised  if  they  should  be  executed,  or  sent  to  the  Mexican 
mines,  to  give  their  friends  the  sorrowful  intelligence  of  their 
fate. 

We  now  took  leave  of  them.  As  we  shook  them  by  the 
hand  their  tears  flowed  freely.  One  said,  write  to  my  sister 
in  Maine  i  another,  write  to  my  mother  in  Boston ;  another, 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIA  S 


115 


)|  I 


:er 


write  to  my  uncle  in  London,  and  he  will  inform  my  parents; 
another  said  write  to  my  wife  in  *******.  Her  heart  is  al- 
ready broken  by  my  abandonment.  Another  tried  to  speak 
of  his  home;  but  grief  choked  his  utterance.  Graham  was 
himself  again.  That  hardy  and  high-toned  energy  of  charac- 
ter which  nature  had  given  him,  seemed  to  rise  over  mis- 
fortune, as  his  corporeal  powers  decreased.  He  was  greatly 
enfeebled  by  his  sufferings,  and  thought  he  might  die  on  the 
passage  to  San  Bias.  "  But,"  said  he,  "  I  reckon  these  vil- 
lains will  see  me  die  like  a  man.  And  if  I  do  die,  I  wish  you 
to  go  to  Tennessee  and  Kentucky,  and  tell  the  boys  of  our 
sufferings.  My  bones  on  the  stake,  their  rifles  will  make 
spots  on  their  vile  carcases.  Two  hundred  Tennessee  rifle- 
men could  take  the  country  ;  and  it's  a  mighty  pity  it  should 
be  held  by  a  set  of  vagabonds  who  don't  regard  the  honor  of 
God  or  the  rights  of  men.  I  have  been  here  now  seven 
years ;  have  always  been  a  peaceable  man,  except  when  I  took 
part  with  the  Californians  against  the  tyranny  of  Govern- 
ment officers  sent  up  from  Mexico.  And  now  I  am  lassooed 
like  a  bear  for  slaughter  or  bondage,  by  these  very  men 
whose  lives  and  property  myself  and  friends  saved.  Well, 
Graham  may  hve  to  prime  a  rifle  again !  If  he  does,  it  will 
be  in  California !  Farewell  to  you.  I  hope  we  shall  meet 
in  Mexico."  The  old  man  brushed  a  tear  from  his  weather- 
beaten  generous  face,  and  we  left  him. 

The  American  repeated  his  visit  to  the  sick  Englishman. 
He  had  neither  ate,  drank,  nor  spoken.  His  limbs  were  en- 
tirely cold  and  motionless ;  fast  sinking.  The  ladies  in  at- 
tendance were  very  compassionate,  and  bestowed  on  him 
every  kindness  he  was  capable  of  receiving.  Yet  how  mhu- 
man  the  power  which,  calling  itself  a  Government,  authorises 
such  murders !  The  halter  which  swings  at  the  bidding  of  a 
civil  tribunal,  the  axe  which  flashes  along  the  grooves  of  the 
guillotine,  have  their  horrors ;  and  the  head  picked  up  by 
the  mob  and  shown  while  life  yet  speaks  from  the  eyes,  and 
the  dying  love  of  Freedom  still  clothes  the  countenance, 


*■ 


ipi 


h 


116 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC, 


shocks  human  forbearance !  But  to  be  killed  by  inches,  to 
be  sent  to  the  arms  of  death  by  the  long  agonies  of  thirst  and 
famine,  for  no  crime  save  that  of  being  an  American  or 
Briton,  is  a  sacrifice  at  which  malice  itself  in  its  soberer  mo- 
ments shudders  and  turns  pale.  So  was  this  man  dying.  He 
breathed  heavily.  One  of  Castro's  officers  came  in,  and  re- 
marking that  he  was  undoubtedly  a  feeble  man,  kissed  his 
hand  gallantly  to  the  ladies  and  retired. 

The  evening  was  spent  with  Mrs.  J.  A.  Jones,  the  Califor- 
nian  spouse  of  the  former  American  Consul  at  the  Hawaian 
Islands,  and  her  sisters.  A  stroll,  a  Ute-a-tHe,  and  the  sweet 
guitar !  The  air  was  balmy ;  the  smiles  were  deeply  sympathiz- 
ing ;  the  laugh  savored  richly  of  the  dearest  impulses  of  the 
soul  J  the  music  was  the  warm  breath  of  the  great  living 
principle  of  the  best  affections.  All  beyond  was  barbarism 
and  wilderness  !  The  vast  pampas,  the  unexplored  streams, 
the  unpruned  forests,  the  growling  hosts  of  beasts  that  war 
with  life  and  gnaw  each  other's  bones ;  the  roarmg  seas ;  the 
wild  men,  women  and  children,  unlocated,  homeless, — the 
untamed  fields  of  earth  and  the  deserts  of  the  human  heart  lay 
outside  ;  within  was  our  little  company.  Will  the  reader  tarry 
here  awhile  and  listen  to  tales  of  olden  times  ?  They  tell  of 
heroic  deeds,  of  martyrdoms,  and  glorious  conquests.  They 
will  bring  back  the  events  ofburied  years;  will  showthe  deeds  of 
those  who  acted  here  and  died ;  and  as  the  scene  moves  on, 
this  charming  land,  with  all  its  countless  beauties  and  its  grey 
and  noiseless  wastes,  will  appear. 


^- 


♦  )f 


)i« 


CHAPTER   VII. 

An  Incomparable  Wilderness — A  Strange  Period— Phrenzy — An  Indian 
Fire — Gentlemen  by  the  Grace  of  God  versus  Gentlemen  by  the  Grace  of 
Pelf— A  Sight  of  a  Great  Sea— The  first  Voyage  around  the  Earth — A  Sur- 
render— Victims—  Fleet — Voyage — Another  Voyage — Murder — Mas- 
sacre— Another  Voyage — Shipwreck— Beaten  to  death  in  the  surf— The 
Dead  and  their  Requiem — Gathered  at  their  Ancient  Aliars — A  Return — 
Another  Voyage — An  Arrival  from  a  Ten  Years'  tramp  among  the  Sav- 
ages— An  Expedition  by  Sea  and  Land — Death  of  the  Discoverer  of 
California. 

Any  part  of  the  earth  with  its  forests,  its  native  grasses, 
herbs,  flowers,  streams  and  animals,  unmolested  by  the  trans- 
forming powers  of  that  race  which  derives  a  livelihood  from 
agriculture,  commerce,  and  their  attendant  handicrafts,  is  a 
spectacle  of  great  interest.  The  seasons  as  they  come  and 
go — the  spring  with  its  rich  blossoms  and  leaves — the  sum- 
mer with  its  fulness  of  vigor — the  autumn  with  its  dropping 
fruits — and  the  winter,  that  Sabbath  of  the  year,  when  na- 
ture rests  from  her  toil — all  bring  to  the  old  wilderness  un- 
numbered charms.  But  who  can  portray  them  1  They  are 
so  closely  grouped,  so  richly  tinted,  so  mellow,  so  sacred  and 
grand,  that  a  long  life  is  required  to  perceive  them.  And  I 
often  think,  if  we  should  study  the  ancient  woods  and  tower- 
ing rocks,  and  the  countless  beauties  among  them,  through 
all  our  days  as  we  do  in  childhood,  we  should  be  drawn  nearer 
to  virtue  and  to  God  ! 

California  is  an  incomparable  wilderness.  It  differs  from 
that  which  overhung  the  Pilgrims  of  New  England.  That  was 
a  forest  broken  only  by  the  streams  and  the  beautiful  lakes  in 
which  the  Indian  angled  for  his  food.  This  is  a  wilderness 
of  groves  and  lawns,  broken  by  deep  and  rich  ravines,  sepa- 


i 


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118 


SCENES 


THE       PACIFIC 


ill 


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ii  ! 


rated  from  each  other  by  broad,  and  wild  wastes.  Along  the 
ocean  is  a  world  of  vegetable  beauty ;  on  the  sides  of  the 
mountains  are  the  mightiest  trees  of  the  earth ;  on  the  heights 
are  the  eternal  snows,  lighted  by  volcanic  fires  !  But  this  is  not 
the  place  to  describe  the  features  of  this  remarkable  country.  I 
have  said  there  is  a  tale  of  olden  times  connected  with  it  and 
its  people,  which  must  first  be  given.  A  strange  period  in 
the  history  of  man  is  that  in  which  the  Californias  became 
known  to  Europeans.  The  latter  years  of  the  fifteenth,  and 
the  first  of  the  sixteenth  century,  embrace  it.  It  is  a  barba- 
rous era  of  human  energy — not  the  energy  of  well-directed 
reason — ^but  of  that  recuperative  force  of  human  nature  which 
for  centuries  bends  under  ignorance  and  inaction,  and  then, 
like  some  central  spark,  ignites  the  mass,  and  flows  forth  over 
every  opposing  obstacle. 

The  attenipi  to  take  Palestine  from  the  Infidels  has  called 
out  the  combating  and  religious  faculties  in  conjunction.  Vene- 
ration for  the  Church  and  its  rites  is  the  ruling  idea ;  the  cross  is 
transferred  from  the  cathedral  to  the  field  of  battle,  and  with  so- 
lemn hymns  to  God  the  people  of  Europe  march  to  their  graves 
on  the  desecrated  plains  of  Jerusalem.  This  religious  battling 
has  an  end ;  but  its  influence  on  the  minds  of  the  people  has 
been  immense.  They  have  wrapped  their  faith  around  their 
lances  j  turned  from  commerce,  the  subjugation  of  the  soil,  and 
general  industry,  to  war  upon  opinions — to  an  unsettled  state 
of  fanatical  vagabondism,  which  turns  the  world  loose  upon 
itself  in  a  religious  phrenzy  that  is  forced  to  seek  an  outlet 
among  the  waves  of  the  western  seas. 

Half  the  solid  land  of  the  globe  with  its  boundless  forests, 
its  Amazon  and  Mississippi  Rivers,  its  mountain  ranges,  its 
unnumbered  forms  "of  animal  life,  its  savage  infidels — all  its 
vastness,  beauty  and  gold,  catches  the  restless  fancy  of  the  age, 
and  Columbus  is  among  its  sea-weed — sees  the  light  of  the 
Indian's  evening  fire,  and  invites  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Old 
World  to  the  New.  It  comes.  It  is  love  of  wealth,  power, 
and  faith ! 


11  » 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


119 


m 


Venice,  Genoa  ami  Florence  are  bringing  overland,  from 
the  East  Indies,  so  much  wealth,  that  kings  are  tributary  to 
them.  The  palaces  of  the  merchant  princes  outvie  those  of 
the  cut-throats  Royal  by  the  Grace  of  God.  And  the  lead- 
ing cord  of  events  now  is,  to  find  a  shorter  route  to  the  silks  of 
Hindostan.  For  in  this  lies  the  possibility  that  these  Grace 
of  God  gentlemen  may  rid  themselves  of  their  unpleasant 
dependence  upon  the  coffers,  navies  and  armies,  of  these  free 
States.  Portugal,  Spain,  France,  England,  enter  the  li'^ts  of 
this  great  Tournament  of  El  Dorado.  The  prize  sought  to 
be  wrested  from  the  hand  of  Dame  Fortune  is,  a  water  pas- 
sage through  the  American  Continent,  by  which  the  ships  of 
the  discovering  nation  may  reach  the  East  Indies.  Columbus, 
Balboa  and  Corlez  on  the  part  of  Spain,  seek  it  along  the 
shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico ;  but  the  Continent  spreads 
itself  an  everywhere  present  barrier  to  their  hopes.  This 
Vasco  Nunnez  de  Balboa  in  1513  is  in  the  Gulf  of  Uraba ; 
and  an  Indian  chief  called  Panquiaca  cqnducts  him  over 
the  Cordilleras  range  of  the  Isthmus  Darien,  to  Michaelmas 
Gulf  on  the  Pacific.  The  Great  Pacific  Ocean  is  first  seen 
by  this  man.  His  name  is  written  among  the  heroes  of  those 
benighted  years.  It  is  dyed  in  the  blood  of  many  thousand 
slaughtered  Indians.  He  leads  Pizarro  to  the  foul-  murder  of 
the  Incas !  He  opens  the  arteries  of  Guatimala  !  In  1519, 
Fernando  Magellano,  in  the  service  of  Portugal,  discovers 
the  Strait  which  bears  his  name,  sails  across  the  South  Pacific, 
and  touches  at  the  Ladrone  and  Philippine  islands.  Among 
the  latter  group  himself  and  many  of  his  companions  perish. 
Juan  Sebastian  del  Cano  succeeds  to  the  command,  traverses 
the  Indian  Ocean,  doubles  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and 
moors  safely  on  his  native  shore.  Two  passages  to  the  East 
Indies  have  now  been  discovered,  and  the  earth  for  the  first 
time  circumnavigated  in  1522.  The  Pacific  has  been  seen  at 
Darien,  and  ploughed  in  the  Antarctic  latitude.  But  its  north- 
ern parts  are  yet  unexplored.  Hernando  Cortez,  the  student 
of  Salamanca,  the  magistrate  of  San  Diego  de  Cuba,  the 


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120 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


murderer  of  Montezuma  and  Guatimozin,  the  slender,  five 
feet  seven  inch  conqueror  of  Mexico,  undertakes  this. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  August,  1521,  Mexico  surrenders  to 
Cortez,  and  the  King  of  Mechoacan,  whose  dominions  extend 
to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  also  submits  to  this  magistrate 
of  San  Diego.  Men  are  sent  to  explore  three  different 
points  for  a  ship-yard  on  the  coast  of  the  Great  South  Sea  ; 
forty  Spaniards,  carpenters,  sa>^'j  ers,  and  blacksmiths,  are  sent 
to  the  chosen  port ;  iron,  anchors,  cables,  sails,  rigging,  pitch, 
oakum,  bitumen,  and  other  naval  stores,  sufficient  to  build  two 
brigantines,  are  borne  by  Indian  slaves  and  a  few  mules,  from 
Vera  Cruz  to  Zacatula  ;  a  distance  of  six  hundred  miles ! 

But  misfortune  is  beginning  to  tread  on  the  heel  of  Cortez' 
enterprise.  These  materials,  soon  after  their  arrival  at  Zaca- 
tula, are  consumed  by  fire.  He  has  used  all  his  private  funds 
in  the  purchase ;  but  as  his  credit  is  still  good,  a  thousand 
Indian  backs,  stout  and  subservient,  are  again  gored  and 
broken  by  simila/  burthens.  And  the  mountain  path-ways 
from  Vera  Cruz  are  a  second  time  thronged  with  victims, 
dying  under  the  bales  of  materials  for  building  the  magis- 
trate's brigantines.  Cortez  sees  them  rise  from  keel  to  top- 
mast, constructed  with  very  sharp  bows,  and  masts  leaning 
forward,  carrying  triangular  sails ;  and  although  ill-shaped, 
they  run  near  the  wind.  In  1524,  this  fleet  sails  under  com- 
mand of  one  Christopher  de  Ohd,  on  a  voyage  among  the 
unseen  waters  of  the  North  !  This  expedition,  however,  re- 
sults in  nothing:  but  wind  and  storm,  and  the  return  of  the 
ships  in  a  miserable  condition. 

Great  minds  in  different  ages  have  reposed  belief  in  strange 
things.  Caesar  trusted  in  the  entrails  of  birds;  the  British 
Parliament  enacted  laws  against'  witchcraft ;  and  this  Cortez, 
in  1524,  believes  in  a  nation  of  immense  women,  called  Ama- 
zons, inhabiting  a  very  large  island  whose  shores  are  strewn 
with  pearls  and  gold  !  A  sufficient  variety  of  taste  has  hu- 
man credulity,  to  give  it  a  keen  appetite  and  capacious 
throat.    Cortez  determines  to  discover  the  habitation  of  these 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIPORMAS 


121 


IZ, 


m 


large  ladles  But  in  1528  his  fame  falls  into  the  hands  of 
Spaniards  who  treat  it  with  the  same  respect  as  they  already 
have  that  of  Columbus ;  that  is,  begin  to  dig  its  grave. 

To  avoid  the  vexatioas  which  the  Viceroy  of  Mexico,  and 
a  few  other  envious  men,  are  throwing  around  him  to  cripple 
his  efforts,  he  sails  to  Spain  and  presents  himself  to  his  King. 
He  is  received  at  court  with  marked  kindness,  is  made  Mar- 
quis del  Valle  de  Guaxaca,  Captain  General  of  New  Spain 
and  the  provinces  and  coasts  of  the  South  Sea,  discoverer 
and  peopler  of  those  coasts  and  of  the  island  of  pearls,  gold 
and  Amazons,  with  a  grant  of  the  twelfth  part,  for  himself  and 
heirs,  of  all  the  territory  that  he  shall  discover  and  conquer. 
These  powers,  privileges  and  honors  fire  anew  the  volcanic 
spirit  of  this  five  feet  seven  inch  slender  student  of  Salaman- 
ca. In  1530,  therefore,  after  having  agreed  with  his  sove- 
reign to  prosecute  his  discoveries  in  the  South  Seas  at  his 
own  expense,  he  returns  to  Mexico ;  and  finding  the  Audien- 
cia,  the  Council  of  Government,  still  inimical  to  him,  deter- 
mines at  once  to  undertake  the  manifold  duties  of  his  office. 

Accordingly  in  May,  1532,  he  appoints  Diego  Hortado 
Mendoza,  a  relative  of  his,  commander  of  two  ships  which  he 
has  built  at  Acapulco,  and  sends  him  on  a  cruise  into  the 
Pacific.  The  crew  of  one  of  these  vessels  mutinies  and 
brings  her  back  to  Xalisco.  The  other,  under  the  personal 
command  of  Mendoza,  is  never  heard  of  after  she  leaves 
port.  Misfortune  never  weakens  Cortez*  resolution.  On 
advice  of  his  kinsman's  loss  and  the  ill  fate  of  his  expedition, 
he  proceeds  to  Tehuantepec,  and  superintends  the  building 
of  two  other  ships.  These  sail  11  1534  for  the  fabled  island 
of  Amazons,  under  command  of  Hernando  Grijalva  and  a 
cousin  of  Cortez,  Diego  Becera  Mendoza.  Grijalva  pro- 
ceeds three  hundred  leagues  to  a  desert  island  which  he  calls 
San  Tomas,  and  returns.  Ximenes,  the  pilot  of  the  other,  kills 
the  commander,  and  having  assumed  the  command,  sails  up 
the  Gulf-coast  of  California  as  far  as  the  bay  of  Santa  Cruz. 
Here  himself  and  twenty  of  his  crew  are  destroyed  by 
11 


■'11 


I 
I 


5-1 


122 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


f 


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Si 


IS  : 


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i\    '• 


the  Indians.  After  this  event  the  sailors  take  the  vessel 
down  the  coast  of  Mexico  to  a  port  called  Cliiametla. 

Ximenes'  people,  in  the  true  spirit  of  the  race  to  which 
they  belong,  represent  the  country  in  which  their  pilot  has 
been  killed,  as  fruitful  and  thickly  peopled,  and  the  sea  around 
it,  stored  with  great  quantities  of  pearl  beds.  So  that  the  mis- 
fortunes of  former  voyages  only  serve  to  arouse  the  uncon- 
querable spirit  of  this  magistrate  of  San  Diego  de  Cuba,  to 
further  effort  in  search  of  the  rich  islands  and  countries  in  the 
North  Pacific.  He  accordingly  gives  public  notice,  that  Her- 
nando Cortez,  the  conqueror  of  Mexico,  Marquis  del  Valle, 
His  Majesty's  discoverer,  &c.  &c.,  designs  to  take  command 
of  a  fleet  for  this  purpose.  Spaniards  from  all  parts  of  the 
country  enter  his  camp  at  Tehuantepec ;  three  new  ships  are 
launched,  well  supplied  with  stores  for  a  long  cruise,  and  sent 
northward  to  Chiametia ;  thither  Cortez  goes,  with  a  large 
body  of  priests,  officers  and  soldiers,  and  several  families,  de- 
signing to  settle  in  the  territories  he  may  discover ;  the  ship 
of  Ximenes,  lying  at  Chiametia,  empty  and  plundered,  is  fitted 
up  as  the  fourth  vessel  of  this  little  squadron ;  and  Cortez  and 
a  part  of  his  followers  sail  into  the  unknown  north ;  enter 
the  bay  where  Ximines  was  killed ;  and  call  it  Santa  Cruz, 
Bahia  de  la  Paz. 

Having  landed  his  people  and  stores  at  this  place,  he  sends 
his  ships  back  to  Chiametia  for  a  part  of  the  stores  and  peo- 
ple which  have  been  left.  But  tempests  fall  upon  them,  and 
contrary  winds  so  thwart  them,  that  only  one  ever  retmns 
to  La  Paz.  Their  stores  and  provisions  consequently  wane 
fast ;  the  country  around  is  desolate  and  barren ;  death  gnashes 
his  teeth  upon  them,  and  starvation  walks  a  ghastly  image 
through  their  pallid  ranks ;  but  Cortez  sees  a  difficulty  only  to 
conquer  it.  He  immediately  puts  to  sea  in  his  only  remaining 
ship;  crosses  the  gulf;  coasts  along  its  eastern  shore  for  the 
space  of  fifty  leagues,  amid  infinite  dangers  from  rocks,  currents 
and  tempests ;  finds  his  lost  ships  stranded  on  the  coast  of 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CA LIFORNIAS 


123 


e 
o 


II 


Senora,  and  the  bodies  of  his  companions  rotting  and  beating 
among  the  breakers !  A  sad  end  to  those  men  was  that !  A 
dolorous  termination  to  Cortez'  hopes  of  discovery !  and  dread- 
ful to  the  people  of  La  Paz,  on  a  heated  and  desolate  shore, 
starving  and  thirsting,  the  living  eating  the  dead  and  drinking 
their  blood !  On  his  return  he  finds  the  few  wretched  ones 
who  yet  live,  mad  with  hunger !  They  shout  with  wild  ma- 
niac joy,  and  nish  into  the  surf!  They  try  to  swim  to  the 
ship  for  food  and  are  cast  back  upon  the  shore  by  the  surges ! 
Many  perish  in  the  angry  waters !  Cortez  lands  and  gives 
them  food  in  sparing  quantities.  But  the  tides  of  life  have 
been  ebbing  too  long !  Their  dying  energies  are  overtaxed ! 
They  die  by  twenties  and  are  buried  among  the  brambles  with 
the  holy  water  sprinkled  on  them  for  a  coffin  and  winding 
sheet !  The  rude  cross  of  wood  stands  over  each  one's  grave, 
the  symbol  of  faith  and  life  to  come !  And  now  the  deep  de- 
sert, red  and  toneless,  hears  their  requiem,  in  the  clanking 
cable  of  Cortez's  ship,  as  the  wailing  crew  heave  the  anchor, 
and  depart  from  the  eastern  shore  of  Lower  California ! 

Meantime  report  at  Mexico  says  that  the  murderer  of  Gua- 
timozin  and  Montezuma  has  perished  in  the  western  seas. 
Cortez  is  the  name  of  a  corse  bloated  and  sunken  in  their 
depths.  The  caciques  of  the  fallen  dynasty  shout  for  glad- 
ness among  the  mountains  of  Mexico.  Their  enslaver  no 
longer  breathes.  The  great  relentless  heart  of  Cortez  is 
rotting.  His  fiery  eye  has  ceased  to  burn.  His  unconquera- 
ble soul  no  longer  hovers  over  their  native  vales,  and  the 
sound  of  his  terrible  voice  is  for  ever  hushed.  This  belief 
rouses  their  lost  courage.  They  gather  around  their  ancient 
altars.  The  holy  Sun  is  besought  to  blight  their  oppressors 
with  his  fervent  fires,  and  send  life,  love,  and  true  hearts 
among  his  fallen  children.  They  worship  in  their  ancient 
temples,  and  vow  that  they  will  be  free. 

The  Marchioness  Donna  Juanna  de  Zunniga,  daughter  of 
the  Count  de  Aguilar  and  cousin  to  the  Duke  de  Bejan,  has 
loved  the  student  of  Salamanca,  and  become  his  second  wife. 


tl!J 


M, 


134 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


And  the  love  of  this  woman  still  burns  ardently,  and  alone, 
for  her  absent  husband.  The  Audlcncla  at  Mexico  are  Span- 
iards, and  as  such  can  lay  aside  their  jealousy  of  Cortez 
when  his  prowess  is  required  to  save  their  necks.  A  virtue 
this  which  never  fails  to  grow  where  Castilian  blood  fertilizes 
the  human  frame.  The  Caciques  now  line  the  mountain  sides 
with  their  followers ;  the  war-cry  bounds  across  the  vale  of 
the  city.  "  Cortez  is  dead,  and  we  can  be  fiee !"  is  sung  on 
all  the  heights  from  the  Gulf  to  the  PaclBc.  That  Audiencia 
now  loves  Cortez.  They  condole  with  his  wife  on  her  pro- 
bable loss,  and  allow  her  to  send  a  ship  with  letters  from  her- 
self urging  his  return.  The  Caciques  press  towards  their  holy 
city,  and  its  sacred  lakes.  The  avenging  passions  of  enslaved 
millions  growl  through  the  land,  and  the  clash  of  savage 
arms,  their  dancings  and  songs,  mingle  in  one  direfvd  din  on 
the  ear  of  the  Viceroy.  He  sends  entreaties  that  Cortez  will 
return  and  save  the  country.  These  messages  from  the  Vice- 
roy and  his  wife  reach,  him  on  the  coast  of  Senora ;  he  sails 
back  to  La  Paz ;  leaves  Francisco  de  Ulloa  in  charge  of  a 
part  of  his  people ',  returns  to  Acapulco ;  goes  to  Quahuna- 
huac  to  meet  his  anxious  wife ;  and  thence  proceeds  to  Mexi- 
co. The  poor  Indians  learn  that  the  murderer  of  their 
Emperor  lives !  They  lay  down  their  arms,  and  every  hope 
of  freedom. 

Ulloa  has  followed  his  master,  and  awaits  his  orders  at 
Acapulco.  In  May,  1537,  he  is  again  ordered  to  sea  with 
three  ships,  the  Santa  Agueda,  La  Trinidad,  and  Santo  Tor- 
res. He  touches  at  Santiago  de  Buena  Esperanza ;  at  Guay- 
abal ;  crosse?  over  to  Califctrnia,  and  follows  the  coast  to  the 
head  of  the  Gidf.  Along  this  coast  he  sees  many  volcanoes, 
bare  mounbiins,  and  barren  valleys.  Whales  abound  in  the 
sea ;  and  en  the  land  he  finds  large,  heavy,  and  very  crooked 
sheep's  horns;  also  naked  Indians  taking  fish  with  hooks 
made  of  wood,  bone,  ana  tortoise-shell,  who  wear  bright 
shells  about  the  neck,  and  use  the  maws  of  sea-wolves  for 


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TRAVELS      IN       THE      <:  A  I-  I  F  0  R  N  I  A  S 


1:25 


drinking  vessels  !  After  a  year's  cruising  in  the  Gulf,  or  Ma 
do  Cortez,  Ulloa  returns  to  Acapulco. 

About  this  time  Alvar  Nunnez  Cabeza  de  Vaca  and  his 
tlnce  companions,  Castello,  Dorontes,  and  a  negro  called  Es- 
tevanico,  arrive  at  Mexico.  They  are  the  only  survivors  of 
three  hundred  Spaniards  who  landed  in  Florid,  'th  Pamfilo  de 
Narvaez,  ten  years  before,  with  the  intention  conquering 
that  country.  They  have  been  defeated  and  driven  from  Flo- 
rida, and  having  wandered  on  foot  through  Louisiana,  Texas, 
and  other  parts  inhabited  by  savages,  they  appear  among 
their  countrymen  naked,  and  so  changed  in  their  personal  ap- 
pearance, that  their  language  is  almost  the  only  evidence  of 
their  origin.  This  Alvar  Nunnez  Cabeza  de  Vaca  relates 
such  surprising  tales  of  his  adventures,  and  the  gold,  pearls, 
&.C,,  seen  in  the  north,  as  to  kindle  anew  the  avarice  of  the 
Spaniards.  The  excitement,  however,  does  not  reach  its 
height  until  the  return  of  a  monk  who  has  travelled  over 
those  countries  with  the  design  of  Christianizing  the  natives. 
This  man  has  seen  rich  countries  covered  with  grains,  fruits, 
countless  herds  of  black  cattle,  and  mountains  shining  with 
the  precious  merals. 

The  Viceroy  and  Cortez  are  enemies.  They  both  conceive 
the  design  of  penetrating  these  countries.  But  the 
former  induces  the  creditors  of  the  latter  to  vex  him  with  le- 
gal proceedings  while  he  himself  dispatches  an  expedition  by 
sea  and  another  by  land,  to  discover  and  conquer  these  won- 
der-born regions.  The  land  force  is  led  by  Francisco  Vas- 
quez  Coronado.  He  marches  at  the  head  of  one  thousand 
chosen  men  j  and  after  many  hardships  reaches  his  destination,  in 
52-  N.  Lat.,  three  hundred  leagues  north  of  Culiacan,  Cinaloa, 
and  Valle  de  Senora.  He  finds  a  province  here  composed  of 
seven  towns  in  which  are  about  four  hundred  men  and  a  pro- 
portionate number  of  women  and  children.  The  largest  has 
two  hundred  houses  of  earth  and  rough  wood.  Some  are  four 
and  five  stories  high.    The  entrance  to  each  floor  is  from  the 


I 


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126 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


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«     I 


outside  by  means  of  stairs,  which,  for  security,  are  removed  at 
night. 

The  country  not  being  strewn  with  gold  and  gems,  how- 
ever, as  the  soldiers  anticipated,  they  propose    to  return.  But 
Coronado  sends  a  body  of  them  three  hundred  leagues  farther 
north,  in  search  of  two  cities,  called  Quivira  and  Axa.    They 
find  only  a  rich  country  abounding  in  fruit,  cattle  and  wild 
beasts.     Meeting  with  nothing,  therefore,  in  all  these  regions 
to  gratify  their  cupidity  during  a  search  of  three  years,  they 
return  to  Mexico  and  report  to  that  effect.    This  expedition 
has  traversed  the  interior  of  Upper  California,     '^he  arma- 
ment, meantime,  has  sailed  to  the  place  of  rendezvous  on  the 
Pacific  coast  of  Oregon,  find  awaited  in  idleness  the  arrival 
of  the  land  expedition.  But  as  Grijalva  was  spending  his  time 
in  searching  for  a  land  of  gold,  and  the  fabled  cities  of 
Quivira  and  Axa,  instead  of  seeking  his  countrymen  at  the 
appointed  place,  the  commander  of  the  fleet  found  it  conve- 
nient to  return  to  Mexico.  He  is  soon  after  'disgraced  and  dies 
of  chagrin.     Thus  terminate  the  Viceroy's  expeditions  ! 

The  friends  of  Cortez  bruit  this  failure  of  his  enemy  to  de- 
fraud their  chief  of  his  rights.  But  the  srar  of  that  great 
man  is  sinking  j  and  they  cannot  stay  its  fail.  Thw;irted  and 
overreached  by  his  enemies,  and  finding  the  mind  of  his  sove- 
reign poisoned  by  their  machinations,  he  resolves  to  present 
himself  again  at  Court  and  demand  his  rights.  Accordingly, 
in  1540,  he  embarks  with  his  two  sons  for  Spain ;  attends  the 
King  in  his  unfortunate  expedition  to  Algiers ;  and  after 
spending  seven  years  in  vain  efforts  ^o  regain  the  favor  of  his 
monarch,  exoires  of  grief  and  disappointment  at  Castillya  de 
la  Cuesta,  while  on  his  way  to  meet  his  dau'^hter  at  Cadiz. 
Thus  dies  the  conqueror  of  Mexico  and  discoverer  of 
California  I 


I 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Three  hundred  years  ago— The  Capitana,  Almiranta,  Frigate  and  Barco 
Longo — A  rare  Bird— Mazatlan — A  Fog  and  a  Reef— San  Barnabe — 
Laying  down  Arn:j^— Rich  Shores — Game — Nature's  Salt  Works— 
Departure— A  Northwester — A  Separation— Signal  Fire; — A  Desert — 
Fish — A  Saline  Lake— Tracts  and  a  Meeting — An  Island— A  Precious 
Mountain — Amber — Cerros — Circumnavigating — San  Hypolito — Up 
the  Coast— A  Gale— Out  of  sight— Comes  o  Aichor— Bahia  San 
Francisco  of  the  South — Native  Cattle — Indian  Courtosy — A  Meeting — 
Another  Bay — A  Battle — Weighs — San  Diego — Savages — Graves — 
Santa  Catarina— Its  Inhabitants  and  Customs — Its  Productions — A 
Temple — A  line  of  Islands — His  Majesty  and  Hospitality — A  Blow — 
Four  Canoes— Rio  San  Carmelo— Monterey  in  1G02— Death— The  Al- 
miranta dispatched  to  Mexico — A  Horrid  Disease — The  Country — Its 
People  and  Animals— Bahia  San  Francisco  of  the  North — Cape  Men- 
docino—Death !  Death!— Return  to  Mazatlan— Death— To  Acapulco 
-  Lamentations ! ! 

In  1542  the  Viceroy  of  Mexico  sends  Juan  Rodriguez  Ca- 
brillo  from  the  Port  of  Navidad  with  two  ships,  on  a  voyage 
of  discovery  up  the  coast  of  California.  He  touches  at 
Santa  Cruz,  la  Magdalena,  Cape  del  Enganno  in  lat.  32", 
La  Cruz  in  33",  de  la  Galera  in  36^",  the  Bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco in  about  37"  40',  and  sees  a  large  Cape,  in  lat.  40", 
which  he  calls  Mendocino,  in  honor  of  the  Viceroy.  In  March, 
1543,  he  reaches  44"  without  making  any  additional  discover- 
ies of  importance.  At  this  time,  the  cold  being  very  intense, 
he  turns  his  ship  homeward  and  enters  the  harbor  of  Navidad 
on  the  14th  of  April,  1545.  No  other  expeditions  are  under- 
taken to  California,  until  1596 ;  when  Count  Monterey,  the 
reigning  Viceroy,  receives  an  order  from  Philip  II.  for  mak- 
ing discoveries  a|jd  settlements  in  California.  In  obedience 
to  this  order,  Sebastian  Viscayno  is  appointed  Captain-general 


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SCENES 


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THE      PACIFIC. 


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of  the  Expedition,  and  Capt.  Toribio  Gor;ez  admiral.  Both 
are  persons  of  great  worth,  enterprise  and  skill.  Two  ships, 
the  Capitana  and  Almiranta,  are  purchased,  and  a  frigate  built 
expressly  for  this  service.  There  is  besides  a  harco  longo  for 
surveying  creeks  and  bays,  and  such  other  services  as  cannot 
be  performed  with  deeper  keels.  Three  barefooted  Carmel- 
ites, Padre  Andrez  de  la  Assumpcion,  Padre  Antonio  de  la 
Ascencion,  and  Padre  Tomas  de  Aquino,  accompany  the  ex- 
pedition in  the  capacity  of  spiritual  advisers ;  and  Capt.  Alon- 
zo  Estevan  Peguero  and  Ensign  Gaspar  de^^Alarcon,  as  coun- 
sellors in  relation  to  the  proceedings  of  the  expedition.  Capt. 
Geronimo  Martin  is  likewise  attached  tc  it  dS  draughtsman  of 
the  coasts,  islands,  and  harbors  which  shall  be  discovered. 
This  body  of  officers  are  men  of  enterprise  and  skill ;  and  sup- 
ported by  the  best  seamen  in  Spanish  America,  great  results 
are  anticipated  from  the  voyage  ! ' 

On  the  5th  of  May,  1602,  the  fleet  sails  (/  \n)  .  -ipulco. 
Strong  head  winds  and  currents  buffet  them  io.  many  days  j 
but  on  the  19th  of  May,  they  reach  Puerta  La  Navidad,  and 
put  in  to  obtain  ballast  and  repair  the  Capitana.  All  which 
being  dispatched  w^ith  the  utmost  speed,  they  proceed  on  their 
voyage  and  reach  Capt  Corrientes  o"  the  26th  of  May. 
Having  survc  3d  this  coast,  and  the  adjacent  country,  they 
sail  northward  to  the  Islands  of  Mazatlan.  These  they  reach 
on  the  22d  of  June.  They  are  two  in  number,  lying  near 
each  other,  and  making  a  fine  roadstead  between  them  and 
the  main  shore.  In  this  the  Capitana  and  Almiranta  come  to 
anchor.  The  frigate  having  been  separated  from  them  sori 
after  leaving  Navidad,  they  fear  she  is  lost ;  but  they  are  gi'  .' 
to  find  her  lying  in  a  river  which  empties  into  this  roadstedUv 
The  officers  and  priests  visit  one  of  the  islands.  Great  num- 
bers of  sea  birds,  about  the  size  of  a  pfoose,  having  a  bill 
nearly  half  a  yard  in  length,  legs  resembimg  those  of  the 
stork,  and  a  large  crop  in  which  they  carry  small  fish  to  their 
young,  cover  the  beach ;  deer  and  wild  goats  abound  inland. 
These  islands  lie  a .  the  entrance  of  the  Gulf  of  California. 


i  i 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIA 


129 


Having  passed  a  part  of  the  day  among  them,  they  steer 
across  the  mouth  of  the  Gulf,  and  on  the  9th  of  July  make 
Cape  San  Lucas.  As  they  stand  in,  a  heavy  fog  falls  upon 
them,  and  completely  conceab  the  shore.  For  a  day  and  a 
half  they  lie  thus  enveloped,  out  of  sight  of  each  other,  and 
in  great  danger.  At  length  it  clears  up  a  little,  and  the  Al- 
miranta  discovers  that  she  is  within  twenty-five  fathoms  of  a 
reef  of  -ocks,  on  which  she  barely  escapes  being  dashed  in 
pieces.  Having  borne  away  from  so  fearful  a  doom,  they  en- 
ter a  bay  where  they  rejoice  to  find  the  frigate  already  an- 
chored. This  is  the  day  of  San  Barnabe,  and  accordingly 
the  harbor  is  named  in  honor  ot  that  saint. 

Their  attention  is  soon  attracted  to  the  natives,  who,  armed 
with  bows,  arrows,  and  spears,  line  the  shore,  shouting 
fiercely,  and  throwing  sand  in  the  air.  General  Viscayno 
lands  with  twelve  soldiers,  the  priests  and  officers.  But  the 
natives  are  so  intimidated  by  the  lighted  matches  and  arque- 
buses that  they  are  near  losing  all  communication  with  them, 
when  Padre  Antonio  de  la  Ascencion,  advancing  alone,  mak- 
ing signs  of  peace  and  friendship,  induces  them  to  stop,  em- 
braces them  all  kindly,  and  gives  assurance  that  no  harm  is 
intended  them.  They  now  lay  down  their  arms,  and  intimate 
that  the  soldiers  must  do  the  same  before  they  will  advance. 
The  Padre  conveys  this  wish  to  his  friends,  and  calls  a  little 
negro  boy  to  bring  a  basket  of  biscuit  to  distribute  among 
them.  At  sight  of  the  negro  they  are  greatly  pleased,  and 
tell  him,  by  <■  j;ns,  that  there  is  a  11  age  of  people  like  him- 
self not  far  thence,  with  whom  they  are  on  friendly  terms. 
Having  received  beads  and  other  presents,  they  retire  to  their 
rancherias,  or  settlements,  much  pleased,  though  apparently 
not  entirely  free  from  apprehension.  After  this,  the  general 
and  others  walk  about  to  examine  the  shore.  Not  far  distant 
they  observe  a  pond  of  clear  water,  on  the  borders  of  which 
lie  great  quantities  of  sardine  and  pilchard,  which  have  been 
thrown  up  by  the  breakers.    The  next  day  they  visit  another 


Ug.fl' 


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.ii,i 


130 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


spot,  where  they  find  the  shore  for  some  distance  strewn  with 
pearl  oysters  of  the  most  brilhant  and  various  hues. 

The  little  fleet  lies  in  this  bay  several  days  to  repair, ^nd 
take  in  wood*  and  water.  The  boats,  meantime,  are  kept 
constantly  abroad  taking  fish.  Soles,  lobsters,  pearl  oysters, 
Sic,  are  procured.  The  quail,  wood-pigeon,  rabbits,  hares, 
deer,  lions,  tigers,  are  seen  on  the  hills;  various  kinds  of  trees, 
as  the  pitahaya,  fig,  lentisk,  and  a  great  variety  of  plum 
shrubs,  which,  instead  of  gum,  emit  a  very  fragrant  odor, 
grow  in  the  valleys.  In  the  vicinity  of  the '  anchorage  is  a 
low  tract  of  ground  subject  to  be  inundated  by  the  sea,  dur- 
ing the  prevalence  of  the  southwesterly  winds.  Its  shape  is 
such  that  when  the  waves  retire  a  large  quantity  of  water  is 
left,  which  evaporates  and  leaves  a  deposit  of  fine  white  salt, 
"he  Indians  of  this  region  go  entirely  naked.  They  are, 
iowever,  extremely  fond  of  ornamenting  their  hair,  and  of 
painting  their  bodies  in  black  and  white  stripes. 

Having  finished  the  repairs  about  the  time  the  moon 
changes,  and  having  by  the  distribution  of  goods  produced  a 
favorable  state  of  feeling  among  the  soldiers,  the  Captain- 
General,  about  the  first  of  July,  orders  the  squadron  to  put 
to  sea.  But  they  run  only  three  leagues,  when  a  northwest- 
erly wind  springs  up,  which  soon  increases  to  such  a  gale 
that  they  are  compelled  to  put  back  into  the  bay  of  San 
Barnabe.  Three  times  they  stand  out,  and  as  often  are  com- 
pelled to  return.  At  last  they  determine  to  leave  the  barco 
longo,  which  the  Capitana  has  towed,  much  to  the  detriment 
of  her  progress,  and  on  the  5th  c.  July,  for  the  fourth  time, 
attempt  to  gain  the  open  sea.  The  Almiranta  and  Capitana 
with  great  difficulty  make  some  headway  against  the  tem- 
pest. But  the  frigate  is  obliged  to  part  company,  and  run  in 
under  the  land.  When  the  gale  abates,  the  commander  is 
desirous  of  uniting  with  the  frigate,  and  for  this  purpose  lays 
in  for  the  shore.  On  the  8th  they  make  land  under  the 
blow  of  some  lofty  hills,  where  they  are  becalned.  This 
range  of  highlands  they  call  Sierra  del  Enfado,  or  Mount 


1 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      C  A  L  1  F  0  R  N I A  S 


131 


IS 

lys 
he 


Tedious.  On  the  16th  a  breeze  fills  their  sails,  and  the  ships 
stand  away  for  the  harbor  de  la  Magdalena.  Here  they  are 
enveloped  in  a  fog  so  dense  that  a  man  cannot  be  seen  at 
six  paces.  The  Capitana  runs  into  the  harbor,  but  the  Alrai- 
ranta  is  compelled  to  turn  her  prow  seaward.  When  the 
fog  clears  up,  therefore,  they  have  lost  sight  of  each  other. 
The  people  of  the  Capitana  mount  the  hills  which  skirt  the 
harbor,  and  build  signal  fires  on  the  heights.  These  are  seen 
by  the  people  of  the  Almiranta ;  but  mistaking  them  for  the 
fires  of  the  Indians,  continue  to  stand  off.  The  Captain-Gene- 
ral now  becomes  very  anxious  for  the  missing  ship  and  fri- 
gate ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  gale  abates,  sails  in  quest  of  them. 
He  first  explores  the  bay  of  San  Jago ;  but  not  finding  them 
there,  proceeds  to  Magdalena,  and,  to  the  joy  of  all,  anchors 
near  the  frigate. 

They  weigh  anchor  again  on  Sunday  morning  the  28th 
of  July,  and  that  they  may  not  be  parted  again,  the  Capitana 
takes  the  frigate  in  tow.  A  gale  which  comes  on  from  the 
northwest  after  they  leave  the  harbor,  prevents  them  f  om 
standing  as  far  from  the  shore  as  they  desire.  But  they  bear 
away  along  the  coast,  and  soon  after  heave  in  sight  of  a  bay 
which  seems  to  be  formed  by  the  mouth  of  a  river.  This 
the  frigate  is  sent  to  survey.  But  ascertaining  the  mouth  to 
be  crossed  by  a  line  of  impassable  breakers,  they  continue 
their  voyage.  On  the  eighth  of  August  they  discover  another 
bay.  Being  now  very  much  in  want  of  wood,  water,  and 
fresh  food,  some  soldiers  are  sent  on  shore  to  search  for  them. 
The  country,  however,  is  perfectly  barren  and  destitute  of  all. 
An  islanjj  is  in  sight  which  promises  the  required  aid.  It 
proves  to  be  small,  with  a  soil  of  gravel  and  sand,  and 
thronged  with  gulls.  The  creeks  are  frequented  with  im- 
mense numbers  of  sea  wolves,  and  a  great  variety  of  fish. 
The  boat  is  sent  out  with  fishing  tackle,  &c.,  and  in  an  hour 
two  men  take  a  supply  for  both  vessels. 

Transfiguration  day  is  passed  here ;  and  Padre  Antonio 
celebrates  mass.    After  service,  the  sergeant  and  some  soldiers 


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SCENES      IN      TIfE      PACIFIC. 


being  out  in  search  of  water  and  wood,  find  a  lake  filled  with 
very  good  salt.  Near  it  are  some  pits  containing  brackish 
water.  Around  these  they  discover  innumerable  foot  prints, 
and  other  signs  which,  to  their  inexpressible  joy,  clearly  in- 
dicate that  the  crew  of  the  Almiranta  have  been  here  before 
them  !  They  therefore  take  a  small  supply  of  this  miserable 
water,  and  sail  for  the  island  of  Cerros  in  search  of  their  com- 
panions. On  their  way  they  pass  a  very  high  barren  moun- 
tain upon  the  main  coast,showing  every  variety  of  color,  on  a 
bright  shining  surface.  It  is  affirmed,  by  a  sailor  from  Peru, 
to  be  a  bed  of  silver  and  gold  !  They  are  very  desirous  to 
ascertain  if  this  opinion  be  true ;  but  the  wind  will  not  per- 
mit them  to  land. 

They  soon  after  enter  a  good  harbor,  which  they  name  San 
Bartholome.  Here  the  General  sends  Ensign  Alarcon  and 
some  soldiers  ashore  for  water.  The  only  thing  they  find 
worthy  of  notice  is  a  kind  of  resin,  or  gum,  which  being 
rather  offensive  to  the  smell,  they  do  not  think  worth  taking 
to  the  ship.  They  believe  it  to  be  amber,  and  report  enough 
of  it  to  load  a  large  ship.  As  no  water  is  to  be  found  on 
this  barren  shore,  they  continue  their  search  for  the  lost 
vessel. 

On  the  last  day  of  August  they  come  to  anchjr  at  the  island 
of  Cerros.  While  they  are  furling  their  sails,  Padre  Tomas 
de  Aquino  discovers  the  Almiranta  approaching  them.  The 
most  extravagant  joy  is  manifested  on  board  both  ships  at 
this  meeting.  Capt.  Viscayno  learns  that  she  has  been  lying 
in  a  fine  harbor  since  the  nineteenth ;  that  she  has  just  weigh- 
ed for  the  purpose  of  circumnavigating  the  island  ^n  search 
of  the  Capitana,  and  that  supplies  of  wood,  water,  salt,  &c., 
may  be  had  at  her  last  mooring  ground.  Accordingly,  the 
little  fleet  runs  into  the  Almiranta's  old  harbor.  Here  the 
General  orders  his  men  to  pitch  a  tent  for  the  Padres,  and 
take  in  supplies.  But  the  water  is  found  so  remote,  that  the 
General  sends  Ensign  Juan  Francisco  and  Sergeant  Miguel  de 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


133 


Legar  with  twelve  soldiers,  over  the  island,  to  see  if  there  be 
not  some  spring  or  stream  more  accessible. 

After  a  long  search  they  report  the  discovery  of  a  rivulet 
about  two  leagues  distant.  Everything  is  now  ordered  on 
board  and  the  fleet  proceeds  at  once  to  the  mouth  of  the 
stream.  While  they  are  taking  in  water,  the  General  orders 
the  frigate  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  island.  On  their  return, 
the  cosmographer  reports  it  to  be  about  thirty  leagues  in  cir- 
cumference, to  have  high  mountains  covered  with  cedar  and 
pine,  and  to  be  inhabited  by  savages,  who  answered  all  their 
signs  of  peace  with  the  most  threatening  gestures.  On  the 
main  coast  a  large  bay  was  observed,  which  seemed  to  run 
far  inland.  All  the  ships  of  the  fleet  being  supplied  with 
water,  they  set  sail  on  the  ninth  of  September.  Their  course 
is  northerly,  towards  the  main  shore.  They  make  it  on  the 
eleventh,  and  discover  a  fine  bay,  which  they  call  San  Hypo- 
lito.  Anchors  are  dropped  and  preparations  made  for  sur- 
veys. For  this  purpose  the  General  orders  some  soldiers 
ashore  under  Capt.  Peguero  and  Ensign  Alarcon.  The  coun- 
try is  found  very  beautiful.  A  broad  and  well-beaten  road 
leads  inland  from  the  coast  to  a  large  hut  covered  with  palm- 
leaves,  capable  of  containing  fifty  persons.  While  returning 
to  the  ship  they  take  a  great  quantity  of  the  best  fish,  on 
which  all  hands  feast  sumptuously.  Thus  fed,  and  joyful  that 
they  have  found  so  desirable  a  country,  they  raise  anchors 
and  stand  up  the  coast. 

As  they  sail  along  they  see  many  large  fires,  which  they 
deem  an  indication  that  Indian  villages  are  numerous.  But 
they  have  proceeded  a  few  leagues  only,  when  a  violent  gale 
springs  up  from  the  northwest,  which  compels  them  to  run  in 
under  some  lofty  hills  bordering  the  sea.  To  the  southeast 
of  this  anchorage  is  seen  a  line  of  white  cliffs  on  which  there 
appear  to  be  a  great  number  of  Indians.  The  General,  there- 
fore, orders  the  frigate  in  shore  with  the  cosmographer  to  take 
a  chart  of  the  coast  and  ascertain  the  condition  of  the  natives. 
On  coming  in  close  under  the  heights  she  is  becalmed  at  such 
12 


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134 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


t'  1 


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a  distance  from  the  shore  that  they  cannot  land.  The  sea, 
meanwhile,  running  very  high  outside,  obliges  the  ships  to  lie  to 
for  twenty-four  hours,  during  which  time  the  frigate  drifts  out 
of  sight  and  the  Almiranta  is  near  foundering.  In  the  morn- 
ing they  endeavor  to  continue  their  voyage.  But  the  wind 
increases  till  evening,  when  a  thick  fog  envelopes  earth,  sea, 
and  ships.  The  Almiranta  being  in  much  jeopardy  from  the  m- 
juries  received  the  previous  night,  the  General  determines  to 
look  for  some  harbor  where  they  may  be  secure  against  the 
heavy  storm  presaged  by  the  fog.  He  finds  none; but  much  to 
their  surprise,  the  following  day  opens  clear,  and  with  a  gentle 
breeze,  which  carries  them  off  the  Mesas,  near  which  the  frigate 
left  them.  The  promises  of  fair  weather,  however,  prove  very 
deceitful ;  for  before  night  a  gale,  more  violent  than  any  they 
have  experienced,  and  accompanied  by  a  thick  fog,  overtakes 
them.  The  ships  lie  to  all  night  under  reefed  mainsails ;  but 
before  morning  they  lose  sight  of  each  other. 

The  General  now  makes  every  effort  to  fall  in  with  the 
Almiranta  j  and  keeping  close  in  shore  for  this  purpose,  very 
unexpectedly  meets  the  frigate.  But  as  he  gets  no  tidings  of 
the  ship,  his  fears  for  her  safety  are  not  lessened.  He  there- 
fore puts  into  a  fine  harbor  which  they  have  iliscoveied  north- 
west of  Cape  Enganno,  and  there  awaits  her.  He  believes 
that,  if  still  in  a  sailing  condition,  she  must,  by  pursuing  her 
instructions  in  regard  to  her  course,  necessarily  pass  near  the 
mouth  of  this  bay.  They  call  this  harbor  Bahia  de  San  Fran- 
cisco. In  a  rancheria  near  the  anchorage  they  find  a  species 
of  onions.  Goats'  horns,  also,  are  strewn  over  the  ground. 
The  surrounding  country  is  level,  fertile,  and  very  beautiful. 
The  plains  are  fed  by  large  herds  of  cattle  and  deer.  The 
crew  of  the  frigate  point  out  an  island  a  little  north  of  the 
anchorage  which  they  call  San  Geronimo ;  and  the  Captain- 
General  orders  some  of  the  seamen  ashore  to  examine  it.  It 
proves  to  be  heavily  wooded,  and  frequented  by  immense  flocks 
of  YirCa.  Its  shoals  abound  in  the  finest  cod  and  other  fish. 
Of  th&se  they  take  a  supply  for  all  the  ships.    Beyond  the 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  8, 


135 


% 


island  thty  discover  a  large  bay  into  which  a  considerable 
creek  empties  itself  with  a  strong  current..  The  frigate  goes 
in  to  survey  it.  They  observe  great  numbers  of  naked  Indi- 
ans fishing  in  the  creek,  who  approach  the  Spaniards  with  the 
liveliest  marks  of  joy,  offer  them  the  best  of  their  fish,  and 
show  them  several  wells  of  pure  fresh  water.  When  these 
things  are  reported  to  Captain  Viscayno,  he  orders  a  tent  to 
be  pitched  for  the  celebration  of  mass,  and  preparations  made 
to  lie  here  till  the  Almiranta  comes  up,  or  all  hope  of  her  is  lost. 
They  take  in  wood  and  water.  Every  morning  the  Indi- 
ans bring  them  a  supply  of  fish  for  the  day,  and  pay  such 
deference  to  the  Spaniards,  that  they  never  visit  the  rancherias 
in  the  neighborhood,  without  first  soliciting  the  permission 
of  the  General  and  the  Padres.  The  Spaniards  return  their 
courtesy  v^'ith  trifling  presents,  which  enlist  their  wonder  and 
admiration  no  deeply,  that  immense  numbers  of  Indian  men, 
and  women  with  two  infants  each,  flock  from  the  neighboring 
rancherias ;  pror.ounce  Spanish  words  after  the  soldiers ; 
eat  with  them ;  and  in  other  ways  show  a  disposition  to  culti- 
vate the  most  friendly  and  intimate  acquaintance.  The  fe- 
males are  clad  in  skins,  and  show  much  propriety  of  conduct. 
These  Indians  carry  on  a  considerable  trade  with  their  inland 
neighbors  by  furnishing  them  with  fish,  and  receiving  in  re- 
turn net  purses,  curiously  wrought,  and  a  root  called  mexcalli 
or  maguey,  boiled  and  prepared  as  a  conserve.  Of  both 
these  articles  they  give  great  quantities  to  the  Spaniards 
return    for    the    beads    and    other    trifles.      They    in- 


m 


form  their  visitors  that  up  in  the  country  there  are  a  great 
many  people  who  wear  clothes  and  beads,  and  have  fire-arms. 
They  are  supposed  to  refer  to  Onate's  land  expedition  from 
Mexico. 

Having  now  abandoned  all  hop»  of  the  Almiranta,  if  being 
twenty-eight  days  since  she  parted  from  them,  the  G»meral, 
on  the  twenty-founn  of  October,  stands  out  to  sea.  Just  as 
he  leaves  the  bay,  to  his  great  astonishment  and  joy,  the 
long  absent  ship  is  seen  approaching.    " 


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136 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


Being  now  all  united  again,  the  General  gives* orders  to 
continue  the  voyage,  and  run  into  the  first  harbor  discovered. 
They  soon  see  a  large  bay,  which  the  tender  is  ordered  to  ex- 
plore. It  is  well  sheltered  from  the  northwest  winds ;  but 
as  its  shores  are  lined  with  great  numbers  of  warlike  Indians, 
instead  of  landing  they  proceed  up  the  coast.  A  north- 
wester, however,  soon  obliges  them  to  put  back,  and  come  to 
anchor.  This  being  the  anniversary  of  St.  Simon  and  St 
Jude,  they  give  the  name  of  both  saints  to  the  bay.  The  next 
morning  Captain  Peguero  and  Ensign  Alarcon  are  sent  ashore 
with  some  soldiers  to  look  for  wood  and  fresh  water.  Find- 
ing none  of  the  latter,  they  dig  some  wells  in  a  moist  spot 
overgrown  with  sedge  and  flags.  While  doing  this,  the 
Indians  seem  very  brisk  and  boldj  but  do  not  molest  the 
Spaniards  till  some  presents  are  offered  them.  Construing 
this  act  into  a  sign  of  fear  on  the  part  of  their  visitors,  they 
at  once  become  impudent,  attempt  to  steal,  and  even  go  so 
far  as  to  try  to  take  one  of  the  boats  from  the  boys  who  are 
left  in  charge  of  it.  To  deter  them  from  further  violence,  one 
of  the  soldiers,  as  they  are  going  off  to  the  ship,  fires  his 
piece  in  the  air.  But  the  Indians  finding  no  one  hurt,  grow 
more  insolent  than  ever ;  and  the  next  day  when  a  small  party 
goes  on  shore  to  obtain  water,  they  become  so  very  trouble- 
some that  two  soldiers  who  have  their  matches  lighted,  order 
ihem  to  stand  back.  But  this  only  increases  their  audacity. 
One  of  them  throws  his  bow  over  the  head  of  a  soldier.  The 
pilot  draws  his  sabre,  and  severs  it.  They  now  draw  up  in 
form,  and  place  their  arrows  on  their  bow-strings.  The 
soldiers,  who  have  lighted  matches,  are  ordered  to  fire  upon 
them!  In  a  moment  six  Indians  lie  bleeding  upon  the 
sand!  Their  companions  snatch  them  up  and  bear  them 
away ! 

The  news  of  this  occurrence  spreads  like  the  wind  among 
the  neighboring  rancherias,  and  in  a  short  time  two  hundred 
Indians  painted  fiercely,  wearing  plumes  upon  their  heads, 
and  armed  with  bows  and  arrows,  rush  down  to  attack  the 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


137 


Spaniards.  The  Ensign,  on  seeing  them,  orders  his  men  to 
make  ready.  The  Indians,  however,  do  not  relish  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  arquebuses,  and  remain  at  a  distance,  talk- 
ing and  gesticulating  in  the  most  earnest  manner.  At  length 
they  send  one  of  their  number  with  a  little  dog,  in  token  of 
their  desire  to  make  peace.  The  man,  while  making  the  treaty, 
eyes  the  arquebuses  very  keenly,  and  signifies  that  four  of  his 
people  are  already  deceased,  and  others  dying  of  their  wounds ; 
and  in  token  of  their  sincere  wish  not  to  hear  from  these  gods 
of  fire  again,  he  makes  a  number  of  presents  to  the  soldiers 
who  boar  them,  and  retires. 

The  squadron  leaves  the  bay  on  Wednesday  the  first  of 
November.  Continuing  along  the  coast,  they  come  to  the 
mouth  of  a  very  large  bay,  sheltered  on  all  sides,  except  the 
sea-ward  one,  by  lofty  mountains.  It  is  protected  at  the 
entrance  by  two  islands,  which  they  call  Todos  Santos.  The 
frigate  and  the  Almiranta  run  in  to  make  surveys.  But  the 
Capitana  standing  off,  and  night  approaching,  they  dread 
another  separation  so  much  that  they  put  out  and  rejoin  the 
General.  The  next  morning  preparations  are  made  to  enter 
it  again,  for  a  more  deliberate  examination.  But  a  favorable 
breeze  springing  up,  they  conclude  to  leave  it  for  their  re- 
turn, and  continue  the  voyage. 

On  the  fifth  of  November  they  fall  in  with  four  islands, 
which  they  call  Coronadas.  On  the  tenth  they  enter  the  fa- 
mous harbor  of  San  Diego.  The  day  after  their  arrival,  En- 
sign Alarcon,  Captain  Peguero  and  eight  soldiers  are  sent  out 
to  explore.  They  first  direct  their  steps  to  a  heavy  forest 
which  lies  on  the  northwest  side  of  the  bay.  This  is  ascer- 
tained to  be  about  three  leagues  in  width  and  half  a  one  in 
breadth.  The  trees  are  chiefly  oaks,  with  an  undergrowth  of 
fragrant  shrubs.  Obtaining  a  fine  view  of  the  bay  from  the 
heights,  they  ascertain  it  to  be  spacious,  land-locked,  and 
every  way  desirable  j  and  returning  to  the  ships,  report  such 
to  be  its  character.  This  result  being  deemed  satisfactory  by 
the  General,  he  orders  a  tent  pitched  on  shore  for  the  celebra- 
12* 


'i-  p.! 


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136 


SCENES      IN      T  11  F.      PACIFIC 


tion  of  mass,  and  preparation  to  be  made  for  repairing  the 
ships.  One  part  of  the  crews  therefore  is  assigned  to  clean 
and  tallow  the  hulls,  another  to  fill  the  water  casks,  and 
another  to  procure  wood  and  keep  guard. 

One  day  when  each  department  is  employed  at  its  appoint- 
ed task,  a  sentinel  posted  in  the  forest  sees  a  large  body  of 
Indians  coming  along  the  shore,  naked,  painted  with  red  and 
white  colors,  and  armed  with  bows  and  arrows.  In  order  if 
possible,  to  avoid  bloodshed,  the  General  desires  Padre  Anto- 
nio to  go  and  offer  them  peace.  He  is  accompanied  by  En- 
sign Juan  Francisco  and  six  soldiers.  Signs  of  peace  being 
made  with  a  bit  of  white  linen,  the  Indians  immediately  de- 
liver their  arms.  The  Padre  embraces  them  all  affectionate- 
ly ;  and  thus  the  best  understanding  is  at  once  established. 
But  observing  so  large  a  number  of  persons  on  board  the 
ships,  they  retire  in  much  apprehension ;  and  after  consulting 
^  some  time  together,  send  two  of  their  women  alone  to  the 
tent.  They  approach  with  a  timid  air ;  but  being  kindly  re- 
ceived and  presented  with  beads,  biscuit,  &c.,  t^^ey  return  and 
make  such  a  report  to  their  people  as  soon  \  s  the  whole 
troop  down  lo  the  water  side.  They  are  g,_..w.ally  naked; 
their  bodies  striped  with  white  and  black  paint ;  and  their 
heads  loaded  with  feathers.  Their  light  paint  seems  to  the 
voyagers,  to  be  compounded  of  silver  and  other  materials ; 
and  on  being  asked  what  it  is,  they  give  the  Spaniards  a  piece 
of  metallic  ore,  saying,  "  it  is  made  from  this."  They  add 
that  far  up  in  the  country  there  are  many  people,  wearing 
beads  and  clothes  like  theirs,  who  make  of  this  metal  such 
ornaments  as  the  General  has  on  his  purple  velvet  doublet. 

All  desirable  preparations  being  made,  they  sail  from  this 
beautiful  bay  of  San  Diego.  Wliile  they  have  tarried  in  it, 
many  of  the  crew  who  had  been  sick  of  the  scurvy,  have  re- 
covered, and  many  others  have  died.  It  is  a  sorrowful  occa- 
sion for  those  who  still  live,  to  part  from  the  graves  of  their 
companions.  They  are  interred  on  the  borders  of  the  magni- 
ficent forest  northwest  of  the  bay  j  and  the  well  known  trees 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      C  A  L I  F  0  R  N I  A  S 


139 


which  spread  their  branches  over  them,  are  discernible  as 
they  leave  the  land !  They  scarcely  clear  the  headlands  of 
the  harbor  when  a  terrible  northwester  comes  down  upon 
them  and  changes  their  grief  to  fear.  They  see  another  voy- 
age begun  which  may  terminate  their  own  lives.  But  they 
keep  their  course  and  soon  make  another  large  bay.  It  is 
surrounded  by  a  level,  beautiful  country,  the  inhabitants  of 
which  make  fires  on  the  heights  along  the  coast,  and  by  every 
sign  in  their  power,  invite  the  fleet  to  anchor.  On  approach- 
ing the  land,  however,  they  find  no  shelter  from  the  northwest 
wind  and  stand  out  again  to  sea.  A  few  leagues  brings  them 
to  the  large  island  of  Santa  Catarina. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  they  anchor  in  the  bay.  The  in- 
habitants of  Santa  Catarina  make  the  most  noisy  and  earnest 
invitations  for  them  to  land.  The  General  therefore  orders 
Admiral  Gomez,  Capt.  Peguero,  and  Ensign  Alarcon,  with 
twenty-four  soldiers,  to  land  on  the  island,  and  learn  what  the 
natives  so  earnestly  desire.  As  soon  as  they  reach  the  shore, 
they  are  surrounded  by  Indian  men  and  women,  who  treat 
them  with  much  kindness  and  propriety,  and  intimate  that 
they  have  seen  other  Spaniards.  When  asked  for  water  they 
give  it  to  the  whites  in  a  sort  of  bottle,  made  of  rushes. 

They  explore  the  island.  It  appears  to  be  overgrown  with 
savin  and  a  species  of  briar.  A  tent  is  pitched  for  religious 
service,  and  Padre  Tomas  being  ill.  Padres  Antonio  and  An- 
drez  celebrate  mass  in  presence  of  all  the  people.  These  In- 
dians spend  much  of  their  time  in  takyig  the  many  varieties 
of  fish  which  abound  in  the  bay.  They  have  boats  made  of 
plank,  capable  of  containing  twenty  persons.  In  these  they 
cany  long  slender  poles,  to  which  harpoons  of  fish-bone  are 
attached  by  long  ropes.  They  strike  with  the  harpoon  and 
pay  out  rope  till  the  fish  is  unable  to  run  longer,  and  then  if 
it  be  small,  take  it  into  the  boat,  or  if  large  tow  it  ashore. 
They  prize  the  sea-wolf  most  highly,  as  well  on  account  of  its 
flesh,  which  they  eat,  as  its  skin,  of  which  they  make  most  of 
their  clothing. 


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i, 

140 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


The  women  of  this  tribe  are  beautiful,  modest,  and  ex- 
tremely well  conducted.  The  children  have  fine  complexions 
and  are  verj  amiable.  They  live  in  large  huts,  dispersed  in 
rancherias,  and  have  many  convenient  utensils  made  of  rushes. 
Their  island  abounds  in  a  small  root  resembling  the  common 
potato,  which  is  much  prized  as  an  article  of  food.  On  this 
island  is  a  very  large  level  enclosure,  with  an  altar  in  the 
centre  surrounded  by  a  circular  wall  or  partition  of  various 
colored  feathers.  Within  this  circle  is  a  figure  painted 
with  a  great  variety  of  huei>,  and  resembling  the  image  by 
which  the  Indians  of  Mexico  typify  the  devil.  In  its  hands 
are  the  figures  of  tbe  Sun  and  Moon.  As  the  soldiers  ap- 
proach this  place  they  discover  two  very  large  crows  within 
the  enclosure,  which  rise  on  their  coming  up  and  alight  on 
some  rocks  in  the  vicinity.  Before  the  guide  can  remonstrate, 
their  pieces  are  levelled  and  both  birds  fall.  This  pet  calls 
forth  th^  bitterest  lamentations  from  the  Indian,  who  evidently 
regards  them  as  sacred  to  his  deity.  Santa  Catarina  has  se- 
veral fine  haibors.  It  abounds  in  paitridges,  quails,  rabbits, 
hare  and  deer.  The  people  are  very  numerous,  and  exhibit 
much  ingenuity  in  pilfering  from  their  visitors. 

On  the  twenty-first  of  December  the  squadron  leaves  Santa 
Catarina  to  explore  other  islands  which  extend  in  a  line  nearly 
one  hundred  leagues  up  the  coast.  They  are  found  to  be  inhab- 
ited by  shrewd,  active  people,  who  trade  much  among  them- 
selves and  witii  their  neighbors  on  the  couvlnent.  Between 
a  portion  of  them  and  the  main  land  is  a  channel  called  the 
Canal  de  Santa  Barbara.  After  exploring  the~  the  f  jet 
puts  back  to  the  continent,  near  the  southern  mouth  of  this 
channel.  Be*'ore  they  reach  the  shore,  however,  four  men 
come  up  to  the  Capitana,  and  row  three  times  round  her 
with  the  most  astonishing  swiftness,  all  the  while  chanting  a 
kind  of  v/ild  measure,  similar  to  what  the  Indians  of  Mexico 
call  almaiote.  By  this  the  Spaniards  understand  that  they 
have  the  Indian  king  or  cacique  on  board.  And  so  it  proves  j 
for  whf    the  ceremony  is  over,  his  majesty  steps  on  board  the 


">•   I 


TRAVELS      IK      THE      CALIFORNIAS, 


141 


}'i<\ 


Capitana,  and  after  walking  three  times  around  the  quarter- 
deck, addresses  himself  in  a  long  speech  to  the  General  and 
his  officers.  This  being  concluded,  he  adopts  the  more  intel- 
ligible method  of  signs,  to  inform  the  Spaniards  that  the  na- 
tives of  Santa  Catarina  have  sent  his  majesty  advic^"  of  their 
visit,  and  have  also  spoken  of  their  bravery,  generosity,  find 
the  many  presents  made  by  thern.  All  these  thinj^s  have 
kindled  in  his  majesty  a  desire  to  cultivate  the  acquaintrince 
of  such  illustrious  persons ;  and  he  backs  his  protestations  of 
regard  by  the  proposition  to  furnish  them  with  everything 
they  desire  io  eat  and  drink,  and  with  the  moderate  supply 
of  ten  women  each  !  To  prove  his  ability  in  this  last  offer, 
himself  and  son  will  remain  as  hostages  while  one  of  the  sol- 
diers shall  go  on  shore  and  ascertain  the  fact.  As  it  is  near 
night,  however,  the  General  very  ungallantly  declines  his 
offer  in  behalf  of  himself  and  crew  j  and  his  majesty  at  length 
departing,  it  is  thought  best  to  improve  the  fair  wind  then 
coming  on,  to  prosecute  the  voyage.  Setting  all  sail,  there- 
fore, they  progress  rapidly  till  they  nearly  complete  the  sur- 
vey of  the  channel.  The  breeze  leaves  them  opposite  a 
cluster  of  islands,  six  in  number,  and  about  two  leagues  dis- 
tant from  each  other.  The  channel  is  ascertained  to  be  about 
twenty-four  leagues  in  length.  The  main  coast  is  beautifully 
diversified  with  woodland  and  lawn,  among  which  are  several 
Indian  villages. 

The  following  night  the  wind  changes  to  northwest,  and 
blows  a  tremendous  gale  for  about  sixty  hours.  The  waters 
in  the  channel  are  lifted  into  moimtains.  The  ships  are  driven 
almost  uncontrolled  among  the  islands.  The  greatest  fear 
prevails  that  all  will  be  lost.  On  the  third  day,  however,  the 
tempest  abates.  Th3  Capitana  and  Almiranta  are  safe,  and 
with  the  fair-weather  stand  in  for  the  continent.  But  the  fri- 
gate is  missing.  The  coast  is  skirted  with  lofty  mountains 
which  shelter  some  fine  bays.  From  one  of  these,  four  ca- 
noes run  out  at  the  same  moment,  filled  with  savages  bring- 
ing a  large  quantity  of  excellent  sardines.    These  Indians 


•y 


I 


142 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


are  tall,  fine-looking  people.  They  cover  themselves  with 
goat-skins  before  entering  the  ships ;  and  as  if  sensible  that 
language  not  understood  woul  ■  be  of  no  use,  they  utter  not 
a  word,  but  express  their  thout^hts  by  signs.  Appearing  very 
good-natured,  and  not  disposed  to  pilfer,  the  Spaniards  pre- 
sent to  them  some  clothing  and  trinkets,  with  which  they 
seem  delighted.  The  next  day,  others  coming  on  board 
urge  the  General  to  bring  his  ships  to  their  country, 
in  order  that  they  may  furnish  him  with  plenty  of  fish  and 
acorns. 

The  frigate  now  rejoins  the  ships.  She  has  been  driven 
among  the  islands,  and  experienced  much  hospitality  from 
the  natives.  They  now  all  get  under  way  and  stand  nearer 
the  shore  in  search  of  a  harbor.  The  whole  coast  has  been 
enveloped  in  a  thick  fog  since  the  gale.  A  fair  wind,  how- 
ever, springing  up,  they  run  along  the  edge  of  the  mist  till  the 
fourteenth  of  January,  when  the  weather  clearing,  they  find 
themselves  under  a  ridge  of  high  mountains,  white  at  the 
top,  and  clothed  with  wood  at  the  base.  This  range  they 
call  Sierra  de  Santa  Lucia.  Four  leagues  beyond  it  a  river 
tumbles  through  a  ledge  of  rocks  into  the  sea.  Its  banks  are 
covered  with  black  and  white  poplar,  willow,  birch,  and  pine. 
This  stream  they  call  Rio  San  Carmelo. 

Two  leagues  farther  on  is  a  splendid  harbor,  between  which 
and  the  mouth  of  the  Carmelo,  is  a  heavy  pine  wood,  form- 
ing a  cape.  This  is  Punto  de  Pinos.  In  this  harbor  the 
squadron  comes  to  anchor.  The  crews  are  very  much 
reduced  by  sickness.  The  master  and  mate  of  the  Al- 
miranta  are  both  unable  to  leave  their  births  j  the  Captain- 
General  and  his  mate  are  scarcely  able  to  appear  on  deck ;  a 
great  many  of  the  soldiers  and  boys  are  very  sick ;  and 
sixteen  have  died  since  leaving  Bahia  de  San  Francisco. 
Under  these  circumstances  it  is  resolved  that  the  Almiranta 
shall  be  sent  back  under  the  command  of  Admiral  Gomez, 
with  the  two  pilots  Pasqual  and  Balthazar,  and  all  the  sick  j 
that  she  shall  take  a  sufficient  number  of  sound  men  to  man 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


143 


her;  and  that  the  rest  shall  go  on  board  of  the  Capitana  and 
frigate.  The  General  will  send  advices  and  a  chart  of  all  his 
discoveries,  with  a  request  that  a  reinforcement  and  supplies 
may  be  sent  on  early  in  the  spring,  to  enable  him  to  complete 
the  survey  of  the  coast  and  Gulf. 

In  accordance  with  this  arrangement  the  sick  are  put  on 
boanl  with  great  care;  Padre  Thomes  de  Aquino  is  assigned  to 
accompany  them,  and  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  January  the 
Almiranta  sets  sail  for  Acapulco.     The  disease  which  preys 
so  distressingly  and  fatally  on  the  ships'  crews  is  one  of  a  very 
singular  character.     It  is  supposed  to  arise  from  the  action  of 
the  cold  winds  of  this  region  upon  the  relaxed  constitutions 
of  persons  who  come  into  it  f  -m  warmer  climates.     The  pa- 
tient is  seized  with  violent  pains  throughout  the  system,  which 
are  soon  followed  by  such  extreme  sensibility  as  forbids  the 
shghtest  touch.     This  latter  .symptom  is  often  so  excruciating 
as  to  draw  tears  and  groans  from  the  stoutest  men.     Soon 
after  this  the  surface  becomes  spotted  with  an  eruption  of  a 
purple  color,  fine  and  sharp,  feeling  as  if  shot  were  inserted 
under  the  skin.     These  are  followed  by  wales  or  hues  of  the 
same  color,  similar  to  those  raised  by  the  ini^iction  of  severe 
blows.     They  are  about  the  width  of  two  fingers ;  appear 
first  on  the  upper  posterior  portion  of  the  thigh ;  but  soon 
spread  themselves  to  the  flexure  of  the  knee.    Wlierever  they 
appear  the  parts  l^  ..ome  rigid,  and  remain  in  the  position  in 
which  they  were  first  seized.     Tiie  whole  systeni  now  swells 
prodigiously,  and  the  patient  cannot  be  raov  d  in  any  manner 
without  suffering  extreme  torture.     The  di-sease  finally  ex- 
tends itself  to  all  parts  of  the  body,  affecting  pr.,  icularly  the 
shoulders,  head  and  loins,  and  causing  'he  most  distressing 
pains  in  the  kidneys.     No  relief  can  be  obtained  by  change 
of  position ;  for  the  slightest  motion  is  agony.     In  time  the 
entire  body  is  covered  with  ulcers  so  exoor singly  sensitive 
that  the  pressure  of  the  lightest  bed  coviiiugis  intolerable. 
At  length  the  gums  and  jaws  swell  so  that  the  mouth  cannot 
be  closed,  and  in  many  cases  the  teeth  drop  out !    The  vio- 


y 


m 


mi 


144 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


!*■    II 


lence  of  the  disease  and  the  debility  arising  from  it  are  such, 
that  the  patients  frequently  die  while  talking  with  their 
friends.  Such  is  the  dreadful  pestilence  that  has  swept  the 
Captain-General's  ranks,  and  now  fills  the  Almiranta  with 
groans,  shrieks,  prayers  and  curses  ! 

Wliile  she  is  making  her  way  back  to  Acapulco,  the  Capi- 
tana  and  frigate  remain  in  the  harbor  <  f  Monterey  to  take  in 
wood  and  water,  and  explore  the  adjacent  country.  They 
find  this  finely  diversified  with  lawns  and  groves  of  pine,  firs, 
willow  and  poplars,  with  an  abundant  undergrowth  of  roses 
and  fragrant  shrubs.  The  open  lands  are  also  dotted  with 
clear,  pure  lakes.  The  country  is  inhabited  by  a  grea*:  vari- 
ety of  wild  beasts.  A  large  bear,  a  species  of  horned  cattle 
similar  in  size  and  shape  to  the  buffalo,  and  another  which, 
from  the  description,  might  be  ancestor  of  the  Americana 
Horribilis,  are  among  the  most  remarkable.  The  voyagers 
give  to  this  latter  beast  the  size  of  the  wolf,  the  form  and 
horns  of  the  stag,  the  skin  and  neck  of  the  pelican,  a  tail  half 
a  yard  in  width  and  twice  as  long,  and  a  cloven  foot !  If  it 
were  a  native,  one  might  be  led  to  speculate  on  the  propin- 
quity of  sulphur !  The  country  also  abounds  in  deer,  rabbits, 
hare,  wild-cats,  bustards,  geese,  ducks,  pigeons,  partridges, 
thrushes,  sparrows,  g. .  .Inches,  cranes,  vultures,  and  another 
bird  about  the  size  of  a  turkey.  On  the  seaboard  are  great 
numbers  of  gulls,  cormorants,  and  other  sea-fowl.  The  sea 
abounds  in  oysters,  lobsters,  crabs,  sea-wolves,  porpoises  and 
whales.  On  the  shores  are  many  rancharias,  the  residents  of 
which  are  an  affable,  generous  people,  living  under  some  form 
of  government.  They  use  the  native  arms  and  subsist  chiefly 
on  fish  a  ad  game.  They  seem  fond  of  the  Spaniards,  and  ex- 
press the  most  sincere  sorrow  at  their  intention  to  leave  them 
But  this  is  unavoidable.  Both  vessels  run  out  of  the  harbor 
with  a  fair  wind,  on  the  fifth  day  of  January,  1603,  and  stand 
away  northward. 

Soon  after  passing  the  harbor  of  San  Francisco,  in  Lat.  37° 
45',  they  lose  sight  of  each  other,  and  the  Capitana  puts 


L 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIF0RNIA8 


145 


back  into  it,  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  frigate,  and  also  to 
survey  the  harbor  and  surrounding  country.  Another  reason 
which  the  Captain-General  has  for  wishing  to  stop  here  is  to 
ascertain  if  there  be  any  remains  of  the  San  Augustine,  which 
had  been  driven  ashore  in  1595  with  other  vessels  sent  by 
the  Government  from  the  Philippine  Islands,  to  survey  the 
coast  t>f  California.  The  pilot  of  this  squadron,  Francisco 
Valanos,  is  acquainted  with  the  country.  He  reports  that 
they  left  a  large  cargo  of  wax  and  several  chests  of  silk  on 
the  shore  o  ^  this  harbor.  The  General,  therefore,  runs  the 
Capitana  in,  and  anchors  her  behind  a  point  of  land  called 
Punta  de  los  Reyes.  Becoming  more  anxious,  however,  for  the 
fate  of  the  frigate,  he  weighs  the  next  day  and  runs  out  in 
search  of  her.  A  gentle  northwester  takes  him  up  the  coast 
within  sight  of  Cape  Mendocino,  when  a  violent  southwester, 
accompanied  by  sleet  and  a  heavy  sea,  combined  with  the 
sickly  state  of  the  crew,  induces  him  to  seek  a  southerly 
harbor,  in  which  to  await  the  joming  of  spring  and  the  rein- 
forcement from  Mexico. 

They  are  now  in  a  deplorable  state.  Six  seamen  only  are 
able  to  be  on  deck.  The  officers  are  all  sick.  The  Padres 
are  scarcely  able  to  administer  the  last  rites  to  the  dying ; 
and  the  few  well  ones  are  in  dreadful  consternation  lest  a 
storm  come  on,  and  the  ship  go  down,  for  want  of  men  to 
manage  her.  This  determination  of  General  Viscayno, 
therefore,  raises  the  spirits  of  the  healthy,  and  cheers  the  sick 
to  their  best  efforts.  When  the  wind  changes  so  that  the  fog 
is  dispersed,  the  pilots  take  an  observation  and  find  themselves 
in  Lat.  42^,  opposite  a  cape  which  runs  eastwardly,  and 
unites  with  a  range  of  snowy  mountains.  This  they  call 
Cabo  Blanco  de  Sebastian.  The  lost  frigate  runs  very  near 
the  Capitana  during  the  storm  spoken  of,  but  not  being 
able  to  live  in  such  a  sea,  she  comes  to  anchor  under  a  huge 
rock  near  Cape  Mendocino.  The  pilot,  Florez,  when  the 
storm  abates,  finds  himself  in  Lat.  43°  north,  near  Cape 
Blanco,  and  the  mouth  of  a  large  river,  whose  banks  are 
13 


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146 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


<';overcd  with  ash,  willow,  and  other  trees,  well  known  to  the 
Spaniards.  This  river  they  are  very  desirous  to  explore, 
supposing  it  v'"ll  conduct  them  to  the  great  city  reported  by 
some  Dutch  ariners,  to  exist  in  this  region ;  or  that  it  is  the 
Strait  of  Anian,  connecting  the  Atlantic  with  the  Pacific ! 
The  worthy  pilot,  however,  has  no  chance  of  immortalizing 
himself  by  running  through  Smith's  river  to  the  city  ofMan- 
hattan.  The  current  is  against  his  course  and  his  fame ;  and 
he  turns  back  with  the  determination  of  sailing  to  Acapulco 
without  unnecessary  delay. 

Meantime  the  Capitana  is  making  all  possible  speed  for 
La  Paz,  the  harbor  selected  for  her  winter  quarters.  Oc- 
casionally, in  her  progress,  she  is  visited  by  the  trading  canoes  of 
the  Indians.  But  nothing  of  mc  nent  befals  her  save  that  her 
crew  grow  more  and  more  sickly,  till  she  reaches  a  large  island 
lying  east  of  Santa  Catarina,  when  only  three  persons  beside 
the  Captain-General  are  able  to  keep  the  deck.  There  is 
no  conversation,  no  mir^i  on  board !  Orders  are  conveyed  in 
the  quiet  tone  of  conversation!  The  good  Padre  Andrez 
moves  quietly  about  among  the '  pick,  the  sole  physician, 
nurse,  priest  and  confessor  of  that  gloomy  hospital !  Now  he 
bears  medicine  to  the  sick,  and  smoothes  their  pillow ;  now  he 
administers  the  extreme  unction,  and  anoints  with  holy  oil 
the  dying ;  now  he  seals  the  lips  and  closes  the  eyes  of  the 
dead !  Prayers  and  groans  alone  are  heard ;  except  when 
the  burial  service  is  hurriedly  chanted,  and  the  sudden  plunge 
announces  that  some  one  is  gone  from  among  them  for  ever ! 

These  terrible  afflictions  induce  the  General  to  abandon  his 
intention  of  wintering  at  La  Paz,  and  to  run  directly  for  the 
islands  of  Mazatlan,  where  he  can  procure  better  treatment 
for  his  dying  crew.  On  the  third  of  February  he  reaches  the 
island  of  San  Ililario  and  passes  on  to  Cerros.  Here  he  stops 
and  obtains  a  supply  of  wood  and  water.  On  his  departure, 
he  leaves  letters  and  signals  for  the  frigate,  in  case  she  should 
touch  there,  and  turns  his  prow  for  Cape  San  Lucas.  He 
reaches  it  on  the  fourteenth  of  February,  and  standing  directly 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIF0RNIA8. 


147 


A. 


I 


I 


across  the  mouth  of  the  Gulf,  enters  a  harbor  near  the  island  of 
Mazatlan  on  the  seventeenth  of  the  same  month.  An  account 
of  his  condition  being  sent  to  the  Viceroy,  he  determines  to  go 
in  person  to  San  Sebastian,  a  village  about  eight  leagues  from 
the  harbor,  for  more  immediate  aid.  He  starts  on  the  nine- 
teenth with  five  of  his  soldiers.  But  being  utterly  ignorant  of 
the  country,  they  take  the  wrong  path,  and  wander  two  days  in 
the  wood  without  food  or  water.  At  length  they  fall  into  a 
broad  beaten  road,  and  while  resting  themselves  by  the  way- 
side, a  drove  of  mules,  laden  with  provisions,  comes  along. 
These  are  going  from  Castile  to  Culiacan.  The  General 
learns  from  the  muleteers  that  an  old  friend  of  his  has  become 
the  Alcalde  of  the  latter  place,  and  immediately  accepts  their 
offer  to  convey  himself  and  soldiers  thither. 

At  this  town  they  are  furnished  with  every  comfort  for 
themselves  and  those  on  board  the  ship.  The  poor  seamen 
and  Padres  !  They  are  now  reduced  to  the  most  lamentable 
condition !  Helpless,  covered  with  ulcers,  and  unable  to  speak 
or  eat !  Among  othc .  things  that  are  sent  them,  is  a  kind  of 
fruit  which  is  considered  a  specific  for  this  disease.  It  bears 
among  the  natives  the  cognomen,  XocohuUtzes.  It  resembles 
an  apple.  The  leaves  ol  the  plant  are  exactly  like  those  of 
the  pineapple.  The  fruit  grows  in  clusters.  The  rind  or 
shell  is  yellow,  and  contains  a  pulp  full  of  seeds.  Its  flavor 
is  slightly  tart.  Its  medical  properties  are  such  that  it 
cleanses  the  mouth  reduces  the  gums,  fastens  the  teeth;,  heals 
the  ulcers,  purifies  the  blood,  &c.  Its  virtues  were  acci- 
dentally discovered  by  an  officer  who  was  attending  the  burial 
of  a  victim  to  this  frightful  disease,  from  his  own  ship.  He 
was  himself  somewhat  infected,  and  passing  under  a  tree, 
plucked  and  ate  some  of  the  fruit.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
voided  from  the  mouth  a  large  quantity  of  purulent  matter, 
mingled  with  blood.  The  soreness  was  at  the  same  time  much 
relieved,  and  ^he  gums  contracted  upon  the  teeth  so  that  they  no 
longer  rattled  in  his  mouth.  The  poor  seamen  and  soldiers 
have  suffered  most  deplorably  from  this  malady.    By  the  use 


■I 
ll 

M 


i: 


.\l 


<      3 


148 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


111!   !-!' 


of  this  fruit  they  begin  to  recover.     Nor  have  the  Padres  been 
less  af&icted.    Such  is  the  condition  of  their  hands  and  mouths, 
that  the  crucifixes  which  they  have  held  and  often  caressed, 
while  the  disease  has  been  devouring  their  frames,  are  covered 
with  a  filthy  gore !    Their  couches,  as  well  as  those  of  the 
crew,  are  masses  of  putrid  matter !    But  now  all  are  creep- 
ing on  deck ;  the  ship  and  its  appurtenances  are  cleansed ; 
their  rotting  frames  begin  to  heal!    On  the  21st  of  March 
they  are  so  far  restored  that  the  Capitana  puts  to  sea,  and 
after  a  pleasant  sail  of  eight  days,  moors  in  the  bay  of  Aca- 
pulco.     When  her  anchor  runs,  and  the  pallid  forms  of  the 
few  survivors  are  seen  at  the  bulwarks,  the  horrid  spectacle 
chills  every  tongue!    The  people  gather  on  the  shore  in 
silence.    But  soon  mothers  call  the  names  of  those  who,  many 
months  before,  have  been  buried  in  the  sea !    Fathers  seek 
their  sons  whose  graves  the  wolves  have  opened  in  the  forest 
of  San  Diego !    Mothers,  in  the  excess  of  maternal  sorrow, 
demand  of  the  Captain-General  their  offspring,  who  have  fall- 
en, muscle  and  bone,  morsel  by  morsel,  before  the  terrific 
pestilence !    A  few  recognize  among  the  living,  the  disfigured 
coimtenances  of  their  friends,  and  rushing  on  board  embrace 
them  with  loud  lamentations !    The  Almiranta  rides  hard  by. 
The  frigate  arrives  in  '"        .orable  a  state  as  the  Capitana. 
Her  crew  is  reduced  to  a  number  scarcely  sufficient  to  remem- 
ber the  sufferings  and    le  names  of  those  who  have  died. 
Thus  terminates  the  voyage  of  Viscayno.    He  has  explored 
the  whole  Pacific  coast  of  Upper  and  Lower  California. 


/ 


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I 


CHAPTER    IX 


A.D,  1615— A.  D.  1633-4— Don  Pedro  Portel  de  Cassanale- A.D.  1647— 
A.D.  1666-7— A.D.  1683— Indians— A  Battle— All  busy— Orders 
from  Mexico— Ships  dispatched — A  Garrison  and  Church— An  Ex- 
pedition into  the  Interior — Despatches  arrive— A  Determination- 
Padre  Kino— Padre  Juan  Maria  Sai.va  Tierha- The  Jesuits— Powers 
granted — Salva  Tierra  goes  to  California — The  Resurrection — Inso- 
lence— An  Attack — A  Repulse— A  General  Onset — A  Route — Peace — 
Arrival  of  Padre  Piccolo — An  Exploration — Condition  of  the  Conquest 
Salva  Tierra  goes  to  Senora  for  Food — An  Expedition  to  the  Gila  and 
Colorado  of  the  West  by  Padres  Kino  and  Salva  Tierra — Return  to 
Senora — Padre  Salva  Tierra  leaves  for  California — Another  Expedi- 
tion to  the  Gila  and  Colorado  by  Padres  Kino  and  Gonzales — Indians 
and  Rivers- -Death — Last  Days  of  Padre  Kino — A  lost  Grave. 

No  other  expedition  of  any  moment  is  undertaken  to  Cali- 
fornia until  1615,  when  Captain  Juui  Iturbi  obtains  i  license 
for  making  a  voyage  at  his  own  expt  se.  One  of  his  two 
ships  is  captured  by  a  Dutch  pirate.  With  the  other  he 
reaches  the  coast  of  Cinaloa,  and  procures  supplies  from  a  Je- 
suit Missionary,  Padre  Ribas,  preparatory  to  crossing  the 
Gulf.  But  before  leaving  port  he  is  ordered  out  to  convoy 
the  Philippine  ship  io  Acapulco.  This  done,  he  returns  to 
Mexico,  and  by  exhibiting  the  pearls  he  has  taken  fires  anew 
the  wonder  and  cupidity  of  the  whole  country.  The  Califor- 
nian  pearl  fisheries  are  soon  thronged.  A  few  find  what  they 
desire,  but  an  infinitely  greater  number  are  disappointed. 
The  results,  however,  lead  to  the  granting  of  a  license  to 
Francisco  de  Ortega  to  make  a  voyage  up  the  Gulf.  He  sails 
in  March,  1632.  Accompanying  him  is  Padre  Diego  de  la 
Nava,  the  newly  appointc '  Vicar-general  of  California. 

On  the  second  of  May  they  land  at  San  Barnabe  bay ;  and 
having  made  a  special  survey  of  the  coast  from  this  point  to 
13* 


i  i 


t\ 


i  i  Vi 


150 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


La  Paz  and  purchased  some  pearls  of  the  Indians,  they  touch 
at  Cinaloa,  and  in  June  go  thence  to  report  their  proceedings 
to  the  Viceroy.  In  1633  and  '34,  Capt.  Ortega  makes  two 
other  voycges  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  settlement  in  Cali- 
fornia ;  but  finds  the  country  so  barren  that  he  is  obliged  to 
abandon  his  design.  He  now  proposes  to  have  a  garrison  es- 
tablished at  some  proper  point  for  colonization,  and  a  sum  of 
money  granted  from  the  royal  treasury  to  maintain  settlers  for 
a  definite  period.  But  while  he  is  agitating  these  measures, 
he  has  the  mortification  to  learn  that  his  pilot,  Carboneli,  has 
not  only  obtained  a  license  for  making  a  voyage,  but  asserts 
the  practicability  of  settling  the  country  farther  north,  with- 
out depending  on  the  government  for  supplies.  This  pilot 
sails  in  1636 ;  but  to  his  chagrin  nowhere  finds  such  a  coun- 
try as  he  has  promised ;  and,  after  obtaining  a  few  pearls,  re- 
turns to  confess  his  failure. 

After  this,  an  expedition  is  undertaken  at  His  Majesty's  ex- 
pense. The  governor  of  Cinaloa  receives  orders  to  pass  over 
to  California  and  survey  the  islands,  bays,  coast  and  face  of 
the  country,  preparatory  to  making  a  chart  for  the  use  of  na- 
vigators. He  does  so.  Padre  Jacinto  Cortez,  a  missionary 
of  Cinaloa,  accompanies  him  in  order  to  ascertain  if  it  be 
practicable  to  Christianize  the  Indians.  They  complete  the 
survey  in  July,  1642,  and  soon  after  send  their  charts,  pearls, 
and  other  things  procured,  to  the  Viceroy. 

A  change  is  now  taking  place  at  Mexico.  The  Viceroy, 
Don  Diego  Lopez  Pacheco,  Marquis  de  Villena  and  Duke  of 
Esclona,  returns  to  Spain  under  suspicion,  and  is  succeeded 
by  Don  Juan  de  Palafox.  The  Marquis  successfully  vindi- 
cates himself  against  the  malicious  charges  of  his  enemies, 
and  procures  an  expedition  to  California  to  be  ordered  under 
Admiral  Don  Pedro  Portel  de  Cassanate.  This  man  is  em- 
powered to  build  and  equip  fleets,  and  make  settlements  in 
California,  and  do  such  other  acts  as  he  may  deem  best  calcu- 
lated to  bring  the  native^  of  that  country  into  the  church.  The 


■iK 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       C  A  L  1  F  0  R  N I  A  6 


151 


spiritual  welfare  of  this  expedition  is  committed  to  Padres 
Jacinto  Cortez  and  Aiuirez  Baes,  Missionaries  of  Cinaloa. 

Having  arrived  at  Cinaloa,  Cassanate  receives  instructions 
to  go  out  and  meet  the  Philippine  ship  -which  it  is  feared  will 
fall  into  the  hands  of  English  or  Dutch  pirates.  He  brings 
her  safely  in ;  and  while  he  is  making  preparations  to  sail 
again  to  California,  two  of  his  ships  are  burned.  Discourag- 
ing as  this  circumstance  is,  he  resolves  not  to  be  defeated  by- 
it.  Two  others  are  built  at  Cinaloa  in  1647-8,  in  which  he 
sails  to  the  place  of  destination.  But  he  finds  the  country,  as 
far  as  he  explores  it,  barren  and  dry.  Before  he  completes 
his  survey,  however,  he  receives  orders  to  go  a  second  time 
and  conduct  a  Philippine  ship  into  Acapulco.  This  done,  he 
proceeds  to  lay  the  results  of  his  expedition  before  the  Viceroy. 

This  excellent  man  is  soon  after  promoted  to  the  Govern- 
ment of  Chili ;  and  California  is  neglected  till  1665,  when 
Philip  IV.  again  orders  its  reduction.  The  execution  of  this 
effort  is  entrusted  to  Don  Bernado  Bernal  de  Pinadero.  But 
the  Spanish  treasury  is  now  exhausted ;  the  nation  and  its 
colonies  are  impoverished.  Two  small  vessels  only,  therefore, 
are  built  in  the  Valle  de  Venderas.  In  1666  they  sail  to  the 
coast,  rob  the  poor  natives  of  some  pearls,  and  make  their 
way  back  to  report  that  expedition  also,  a  failure.  The  Queen 
mother,  acting  as  Regent,  orders  Pinadero  to  make  another 
attempt.  In  this  he  is  accompanied  by  the  celebrated  Padre 
Kino.  This  likewise  results  in  nothing  valuable.  In  the  fol- 
lowing year  Francisco  Luzenilla  obtains  a  license  for  a  voy- 
age at  his  own  expense.  This  proves,  like  all  others,  fruit- 
less of  results  worthy  of  note.  In  1667,  the  importance  of 
making  a  settlement  in  California  for  a  rendezvous  of  ships 
trading  to  the  Philippine  Islands,  is  again  brought  before  the 
Council  of  the  Indies ;  and  it  is  finally  determined  to  instruct 
the  Viceroy  and  the  Archbishop  of  Mexico  to  send  out  Admi- 
ral Pinadero  again,  if  he  will  give  security  for  the  perform- 
ance of  that  duty  according  to  the  decrees  of  Council;  and  if 
he  decline,  to  make  the  offer  to  any  person  who  will  under- 


■  »- 


^'     i 


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I  i.i 


I 


V,' 


ilM 


152 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


take  it,  at  his  own  expense  ;  and  if  none  so  offer,  it  is  ordered 
to  be  accomplished  at  the  expense  of  the  crown.  Admiral 
Pinadero  having  refused.  Admiral  Otondo  accepts  the  proposi- 
tion. The  spiritual  Government  is  conferred  on  the  Jesuits. 
Padhe  Klno  as  superior,  and  Padres  Copart  and  Goni  accom- 
pany the  expedition. 

They  put  to  sea  from  Chacala  on  the  eighteenth  of  May, 
1683,  and  in  foi  teen  days  reach  La  Paz.  They  think  it 
singular,  on  landii  !^,  not  to  sec  any  Indians;  but  as  soon  as 
they  begin  to  erect  a  garrison,  considerable  numbers  appear, 
armed  and  hideously  painted,  who  intimate  by  signs  that  the 
Spaniards  must  leave  their  country.  After  some  effort,  how- 
ever, on  the  part  of  the  Padres,  and  uniform  kindness  from  the 
officers,  soldiers  and  seamen,  their  intercourse  becomes 
apparently  unconstrained  and  friendly.  Soon,  howevc,  cir- 
cumstances occur  which  arouse  suspicion.  The  reported 
murder  of  a  mulatto  boy,  added  to  some  indignities  towards 
the  garrison,  indicate  the  need  of  great  watchfulness  on  the 
part  of  the  voyagers.  Danger  lurks  near  them.  The  Guaya- 
curos  among  whom  they  sojourn,  offer  to  unite  with  their 
enemies,  the  Coras,  for  the  extirpation  of  the  Spaniards.  The 
Coras  appear  to  entertain  the  proposition,  but  report  ii  *c  ,.]\e 
Admiral  on  their  earliest  opportunity.  The  soldiers  are  thrown 
into  such  a  panic  by  the  discovery  of  this  plot,  that  the  Admi- 
ral and  Padres  are  obliged  to  exert  all  their  authority  and 
persuasion  to  induce  them  to  meet  the  event  with  fortitude. 
The  day  of  the  intended  massacre  arrives.  The  Indians  ap- 
pear, to  the  number  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  hundred.  A  pa- 
dererOj  or  cannon,  is  fired  among  them,  by  which  ten  or 
tweWe  are  killed  and  several  wounded.  The  remainder 
retire  in  confusion  to  their  rancherias.  The  garrison 
is  safe;  no  one  even  wounded.  But  this  victory  does 
not  discourage  their  fear  of  the  Indians.  The  dry  crags, 
the  treeless  sands  and  thirsty  torrent-chasms  are,  to  the 
anxious  minds  of  the  timid  men,  peopled  with  forms  of  death; 
and  every  howl  of  the  lean  wolf  upon  the  heights,  grates  like 


* 


N 


TRAVELS       IN       THE       C  A  L  1  F  0  11  N  r  A  S 


153 


h 


A 


a  coffin  screw  on  their  cars.  Otonilo  is,  therelbre,  obliged  to 
weigh  anchor  for  liiaqui  on  the  Senora  shore.  Here  he  sells 
all  his  pearls,  and  pledges  his  plate  lor  stores.  Like  a  braVe 
man  bent  on  his  end,  he  seeks  again  the  Californian  shore, 
and  on  the  sixth  of  October  anchors  at  San  Bruno  Bay,  iu 
Lat.  26^  30'. 

On  the  same  day,  Otondo,  the  three  Padres,  and  some  sol- 
diers, explore  for  freshwater,  and  find  it  in  a  narrow  vale  one 
mile  and  a  iialf  from  shore.  Near  this  they  establish  a  gar- 
rison, build  a  rude  church,  and  some  huts.  And  now  Otondo 
sends  two  ships  to  Mexico  with  an  account  of  his  proceed- 
ings, and  a  request  for  more  money  ;  takes  possession  of  the 
country  in  the  name  of  the  king ;  goes  fifty  leagues  westward 
in  the  month  of  December  among  mountains  and  desert  vales ; 
ascends  an  elevation,  where  he  finds  several  leagues  of  table 
land,  with  a  temperate  climate  and  a  fresh-water  lake  of 
small  size ;  advances  beyond,  on  a  toilsome  journey  over  steeps 
and  depths,  in  search  of  a  peak  from  which  to  see  the  Pacific 
Ocean ;  fails  to  do  so,  and  returns  to  San  Bruno.  The  Indians 
whom  they  meet  are  much  delighted  with  the  paternal  kindness 
of  the  Padres.  Otondo  employs  himself  a  year  in  like  ex- 
plorations at  different  points  along  the  coast.  The  Padres 
are  busy  meantime  in  learning  the  language  of  the  Indians 
and  instructing  them  in  the  Catholic  religion.  They  trans- 
late the  Catechism,  teach  it  to  the  children,  and  these  in  turn 
teach  it  to  theu:  parents.  The  voice  of  heathenism  utters 
prayers  to  Jehovah  on  the  Cahfornian  mountains ! 

The  Padres  find  no  word  in  their  language  to  represent  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead.  That  idea  has  not  existed  in  their 
minds,  and  consequently  has  no  expression  in  their  language. 
Resort  is  had  to  a  very  ingenious  method  of  finding  one 
which  will  present  it.  Some  flies  are  immersed  in  water  un- 
til animation  seems  extinct.  They  are  then  placed  among 
ashes  in  the  heat  of  the  sun  till  restored  to  life.  The  In- 
dians who  witness  the  operation  cry  out,  Ibirauhueite !  Ibi- 
muhueite !    This  word  or  expression  is  afterward  uSed  to 


il 


■I 


ft 

^1 


'If   11 

3     ;:| 


154 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


i;i 


represent  the  resurrection  of  the  Savl-ur,  and  conveys  lo  the 
Indian  a  clear  conception  of  that  holy  event.  The  Padres 
instruct  during  the  year  four  hundred  adults  and  many  child- 
ren, but  baptize  none  except  .those  who  are  at  the  door  of 
death.  Some  of  these  sick  indeed,  recover,  and  prove  useful 
teachers.  Most  of  thein,  however,  die,  holding  fast  their 
new  faith.  In  these  jeveial  ways  do  the  priests  and  Otondo 
consume  the  year.  At  i  ;  c^ose,  dispatches  arrive  from  the 
Viceroy  requiring  an  acceunt  of  proceedings,  and  forbidding 
any  farther  attempts  to  be  made  for  the  conquest  and  settle- 
ment of  California  which  should  involve  the  Government  in 
expense. 

On  the  reception  of  these  dispatches  a  council  of  the  Pa- 
dr.^s  and  military  officers  is  held,  the  determination  of  which 
is,  that  a  small  ship  shall  be  sent  with  dispatches  to  Mexico, 
that  the  Padres  shall  continue  to  teach  the  Indians,  and  Oton- 
do to  explore  the  country  and  pearl  beds.  In  September, 
1685,  however,  a  perem^jiory  order  comes  prohibiting  farther 
efforts  at  settling  the  country,  and  ordering,  if  possible,  to 
keep  possession  of  what  is  already  conquered.  But  it  has 
now  become  apparent  that  San  Bruno  must  be  abandoned. 
No  rain  has  fallen  for  nearly  two  years ;  dearth,  thirst,  and 
hunger,  stand  near  them ;  and  to  escape  is  the  settled  desire 
of  all,  except  the  priests.  These  men  of  iron  souls  would 
stay  to  teach  the  savage.  But  Otondo  weighs  anchor,  and 
with  priests,  soldiers,  seamen,  and  three  native  converts, 
squares  his  yards  for  the  harbor  of  Matanchel,  on  the  Mexi- 
can shore. 

This  is  the  last  expedition  of  the  civil  power  of  Spain  to 
conquer  and  settle  California.  Padre  Kino  has  begun  to 
conquer  it  ivith  the  Cross  j  and  we  shall  follow  him  in  bis 
triumphs  and  trials  while  he  achieves  it.  I'he  professor  of 
Ingoldstadt,  Paihe  Kino,  the  devotee  of  San  Xavier,  traverses 
Mexico  preaching  to  his  V  -^ther  Jesuits  the  glories  of  mar- 
tyrdom, and  the  rich  reward  of  those  who  save  from  wo  the 
doomed  and  lost.    In  order  to  forward  his  zeal,  he  is  ap- 


4 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


155 


■' 


pointed  to  the  charge  of  the  Missions  on  the  Senora  coast, 
whence  it  will  be  easy  to  send  supplies  across  the  Gulf  to  the 
more  barren  regions  of  the  peninsula.  Padre  Juan  Maria 
Salva  Tierra  is  designated  to  lead  the  way  on  the  California 
side.  He  solicits  contributions ;  obtains  Padre  Juan  Ugarte,  a 
professor  in  the  college  at  Mexico,  as  a  fellow-laborer ;  fif- 
teen thousand  dollars  to  be  pledged  the  Society  of  Jesuits  for 
the  enterprise ;  ten  thousand  more  to  be  given  it  as  a  fund 
for  one  mission ;  prevails  upon  the  Commissary  of  the  Inqui- 
sition at  Queretaro,  Don  Juan  Cavalero  Y.  Ozio,  to  subscribe 
funds  for  two  other  missions,  and  obligate  himself  to  pay  what- 
ever bills  shall  be  drawn  on  him  by  Papre  Salva  Tierra. 

The  license  for  the  Jesuits  to  enter  California  is  granted  on 
the  fifth  of  February,  1627.  The  special  warrants  empower- 
ing Padres  Kino  and  Salva  Tierra  to  enter  California  are 
subject  to  these  conditions  :  that  they  waste  nothing  belong- 
ing to  the  king,  nor  draw  upon  the  government  treasury  with- 
out express  orders  from  his  majesty ;  that  they  take  posses- 
sion of  the  country,  and  hold  it  in  the  name  of  the  King  of 
Spain. 

The  powers  granted  them  in  these  warrants  are,  to  enlist 
soldiers  at  their  own  expense  ;  appoint  a  commander,  whose 
immunities  shall  be  accounted  the  same  as  in  time  of  war  ;  to 
commission  magistrates  for  the  administration  of  justice  in 
California ;  and  discharge  all  these  from  their  service  at  will. 
With  full  powers  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical,  therefore,  and 
the  treasury  both  of  the  Inquisition  and  of  many  private  indivi- 
duals to  draw  upon,  Padre  Salva  Tierra  goes  from  Mexico  to 
Guadalaxara ;  thence  to  Hiaqui,  in  Senora ;  and  thence  on  the 
tenth  of  October,  1697,  with  five  soldiers,  Estevan  Rodriguez 
Lorenzo,  Bartolem^  de  Robles  Figueroa,  Juan  Caravana, 
Nicolas  Marques,  and  Juan,  with  their  commander,  Don  Luis 
de  Torres  Tortnlero,  embarks  for  the  scene  of  his  future  trials. 
A  great  moral  herOj  with  his  little  band,  kneeling  in  prayer 
on  the  deck  of  a  galliot,  bound  for  the  conquest  of  California ! 
The  sails  are  loosened  to  the  winds ;  they  leave  the  harbor ; 


■I,  I' 

hi 


HI 

i  i 


156 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


but  they  have  proceeded  hardly  a  league,  when  a  squall  comes 
on,  which  strands  them  on  the  beach.  All  now  appear  to  be 
lost.  But  they  save  themselves  in  the  long-boat ;  and  when 
the  tide  rises,  the  galliot  floats  again,  and  proceeds  on  her 
voyage.  A  holy  voyage  is  begun ;  its  consequences  are  full 
of  hope  to  man ! 

On  the  thirteenth  they  touch  at  San  Bruno,  in  California, 
and  at  San  Dionysio,  ten  leagues  south  of  San  Bruno.  At 
the  latter  place,  fifty  Indians  receive  them  with  joy.  A  fine 
watering-place,  discovered  in  a  deep  and  fruitful  glen,  indi- 
cates the  place  for  an  encampment.  The  provisions,  bag- 
gage, and  animals,  therefore,  are  landed,  and  the  barracks  of 
the  little  garrison  built ;  a  line  of  circuravallation  is  thrown 
up,  in  the  centre  of  which  a  temporary  chapel  is  raised  ;  be- 
fore it  a  crucifix,  adorned  with  a  garland  of  flowers,  is  erect- 
ed ;  and  "  the  image  of  our  Lady  of  Loretto,  as  patroness  of 
the  conquest,  is  brought  in  procession  from  the  galliot,  and 
placed  with  proper  solemnity."  On  the  twenty-fifth  of  Oc- 
tober, formal  possession  is  taken  of  the  country  in  the  name 
of  the  King  of  Spain. 

Thus  commences  the  religious  conquest  of  California  by 
Padre  Salva  Tierka  ;  a  voluntary  exile  from  the  highest  cir- 
cles of  European  life ;  a  great  man,  with  a  strong  and  kind 
heart ;  abandoning  kindred,  ease,  and  intellectual  society,  for 
the  well-being  of  the  stupid  and  filthy  natives  of  the  Cali- 
fomian  deserts. 

The  Padre  now  sends  the  galliot  to  Hiaqui  for  Padre 
Piccolo,  some  soldiers  and  provisions.  Meantime  he  applies 
himself  with  unceasing  assiduity  to  learning  the  Indian  lan- 
guage and  leaching  religion.  He  pursues  the  same  course  as 
he  would  with  stupid  children ;  induces  them  to  learn  the 
prayers  and  catechisms,  by  rewarding  attention  and  industiy 
with  something  to  eat.  By  thus  addressing  their  strongest 
propensity  as  a  stimulant  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge] 
he  hopes  to  awaken  and  instruct  their  higher  faculties  of 
thought  and  sense  of  right.     In  the  latter  he,  for  a  time,  fails. 


i) 


u 


TRAVELS       IN       THE       CALIF ORNIAS. 


157 


of 
s. 


For  the  savages,  dissatisfied  with  the  amount  of  food  which 
the  Padre  gives  them,  fall  upon  the  animals  of  the  post, 
destroy  them,  and  steal  corn  from  the  sacks.  Nor  are  they 
satisfied  with  this.  They  meditate  a  general  attack  on  the 
garrison,  in  order  to  destroy  or  drive  the  people  from  the 
country.  The  good  Padre  knows  their  designs,  but  continues 
his  kindness.  Their  insolence  increases.  On  the  thirteenth 
of  November,  the  tribes  meet  to  strike  a  decisive  blow. 
Four  savages  come  to  the  camp  about  noon,  while  the  garri- 
son are  eating.  The  sentinel  tries  to  prevent  their  entering 
the  trenches,  and  one  of  the  boldest  of  them  deprives  him  of 
the  staff  used  as  a  halberd.  The  soldier  cries  out,  and  Tor- 
tolero  running  up,  wrests  it  from  the  Indian  with  such  force 
and  boldness,  that  the  invaders  are  frightened  and  retire.  At 
this  moment  the  Indian  Alonzo  de  Tepahui,  who  keeps  the 
swine  and  sheep  in  a  valley  overgrown  with  rushes  and  flags, 
is  assaulted  by  another  party.  But  aid  being  immediately 
rendered,  himself  and  animals  are  saved.  And  now  falls  a 
shower  of  arrows  and  stones  from  five  hundred  Indians,  ad- 
vancing to  attack  the  camp. 

Ten  men  and  one  Californian  Indian  compose  the  garrison. 
And  how  shall  they  be  so  detailed  as  to  meet  this  numerous 
force  ?  Tortolero,  the  acting  commander,  stations  hin  self  and 
Bartolerae  de  Robles  on  the  entrenchment  facing  the  lower 
part  of  the  valley,  the  post  of  greatest  danger ;  on  the  oppo- 
site side  are  Juan  de  Peru  and  the  Indian  Alonzo  de  Tepahui ; 
on  the  side  looking  towards  the  river,  stands  the  bold  and 
active  Indian  Marcos  Guazavas ;  on  the  remaining  side  is 
Estevan  Rodrigues ;  the  Maltese  Juan  Caravana  has  the  care 
of  the  paderero,  or  cannon,  placed  at  the  gate  of  the  camp; 
and  near  to  him  is  Nicolas  Marques,  the  Sicilian,  as  assistant 
gunner;  Salva  Tieura  and  Sebastien,  his  Indian,  occupy  the 
centre,  in  order  to  give  aid  where  there  should  be  the  most 
need.  The  forces  have  barely  time  to  make  this  disposition  of 
themselves,  when  the  savages  begin  to  advance  on  all  .;ides, 
with  dreadful  shouting  and  outcries.  They  are  repulsed  with  as 
14 


(    i 


I  il 


1        " 


i. 


■■'  \ 


158 


SCENES      IV      THE      PACIFIC 


little  destruction  of  life  as  possible.     Padre  Salva  Tierra  de- 
sires that  course  to  be  pursued.    The  Indians  return  to  the  at- 
tack repeatedly  for  two  hours,  throwing  stones,  arrows,  and 
wooden  javelins  into  the  trenches,  when  suddenly  the  whole 
body  retreats  and  the  action  ceases.    Half  an  hour  elapses,  and 
they  return  reinforced,  and  press  upon  the  trenches  with  rage  so 
fierce  and  deadly,  that  the  hope  of  successful  resistance  with- 
out the  paderero  grows  faint.     The  Padre,  therefore,  consents 
to  have  it  fired.    The  match  is  applied.     But  instead  of  de- 
stroying the  Indians,  it  bursts  in  pieces  and  flies  about  tliQ 
camp,   knocking  Juan  Caravana    senseless  to  the  ground. 
The  Indians  against  whom  it  has  been  levelled,  perceive  this 
misfortune,  and  send  notice  of  it  to  others  with  the  remark, 
that  since  the  paderero  does  not  kill,  they  need  not  fear  the 
smaller  pieces.    Of  this  they  are  the  more  persuaded,  because 
the  Padre  has  ordered  the  soldiers  to  shoot  over  them.    And 
the  kind  old  priest,  now  that  the  Captain  thinks  it  necessary  to 
fire  into  the  Indian  ranks,  rushes  between  the  guns  and  the 
savages,  beseeching  them  not  to  press  on  sure  destruction ! 
Three  arrows  shot  at  him  are  the  reward  of  his  kindness. 
Happily,  the  Padre  is  not  injured.     But  he  withdraws  and 
leaves  them  to  their  fate.     And  now  they  fall  before  the 
muskets  of  the  soldiers !    The  wounded  and  dying  groan  on 
every  si^e !    A  route  succeeds !    They  fly  in  confusion  to  their 
villages ! 

Soon  after,  messengers  of  peace  arrive.  The  first  is  a 
Chief.  He  weeps ;  he  talks  in  broken  grief;  he  acknow- 
ledges himself  the  cause  of  these  disturbances ;  he  first  formed 
the  plot,  inspirited  and  drew  in  the  other  tribes ;  he  and  they 
have  sought  vengeance ;  but  are  now  sincerely  repentant. 
Next  comes  a  band  of  women  leading  children.  They  seat 
themselves  at  the  gate  of  the  camp,  and  weeping  bitterly,  and 
promising  good  conduct  for  themselves  and  their  husbands, 
offer  the  children  as  hostages.  The  good  Padre  is  greatly 
rejoiced  to  see  these  signs  of  sorrow;   explains   to  them 


. 


1^ 


a 


»' 


TRAVELS       IN       T  JI  K       <    A  L  I  F  O  R  N  I  A  S  . 


159 


the  wickedness  of  their  acts;  and  promises  them  peace, 
friendship,  and  other  good  things,  if  their  husbands  prove 
true  to  their  league.  And  receiving  one  of  the  children  in 
order  to  remove  all  suspicion  from  their  minds,  sends  them  to 
their  friends  and  homes  with  shouts  and  other  demonstrations 
of  great  joy.  And  now  night  comes  on  in  this  vast  waste  of 
burned  mountains  !  The  little  chapel  is  opened  for  worship. 
Special  "  thanks  are  returned  to  God,  His  most  holy  mother, 
and  Saint  Stanislaus  for  his  manifold  favors." 

On  examining  the  camp  next  morning,  it  is  found  "  that 
most  of  the  arrows  stick  in  the  pedestal  of  the  cross;  whilst 
the  cross  itself,  and  tent  which  serves  for  a  chapel  to  *  our 
lady  of  Loretto,'  are  untouched."  None  of  the  garrison  are 
killed  ;  two  only  are  wounded.  These  are  the  brave  Tortolero 
and  Figueroa  ;  and  they  adore  the  holy  cross  as  the  standard 
of  their  faith ;  "  they  sing  Jive  Maria  to  our  lady  as  then: 
Captain,  and  unanimously  determine  to  remain  in  the  country." 
This  garrison  is  called  Loretto.  To  it,  for  many  years  to 
come,  will  centre  the  events  of  the  country.  Even  now  it  is 
a  bright  and  lone  starry  point :  the  only  lamp  of  truth  that 
burns,  from  Cape  San  Lucas  to  the  north  pole,  is  at  Loreito. 
The  only  civilized  men  that  live  on  all  that  extent  of  coast, 
breathe  this  first  night  after  the  battle,  with  their  hands 
clenched  on  their  guns,  in  the  tents  of  the  garrison  at  Loretto 
in  Lower  California ! 

On  the  twenty-third  of  November  a  long-boat  arrives  from 
Senora  w^ith  Padre  Francisco  Maria  Piccolo — a  missionary 
among  the  Tarahumares,  who  has  left  his  former  field  of  toil, 
for  this  new  one  in  California.  Padre  Salva  Tierra  has,  by 
his  arrival,  a  companion  at  his  prayers,  and  in  his  labor  among 
these  savages.  The  soldiers  now  erect  some  works  of  defence 
within  the  camp ;  the  trench  is  enlarged  and  fortified  with  a 
palisade  and  thorny  branches  of  trees ;  a  chapel  is  built  of 
mortar  and  stone,  with  thatched  roof,  for  the  image  of  "  our 
Lady  of  Loretto ;"  three  other  structures  are  raised,  one  for 
the  Padres,  one  for  the  Captain,  and  one  for  a  magazine ;  and 


\     m 


I  'i 


rf      »: 


r 


160 


SC  K  N  K  K       IN        1    M  K      4'  A  C  1   F  I  C  . 


near  to  these  are  raise«l  the  harraeks.  The  Patlres  employ 
themselves  with  the  Imiians.  A  small  tribe  is  allowed  to  take 
up  quarters  near  the  camp. 

The  native  priests,  pereeivin^*  by  this  movement  of  their 
people,  that  their  authority  is  (hniinishing,  raise  a  party  to  op- 
pose the  Padres.  They  steal  a  luntv-boat  and  break  it  in  pieces ; 
attack  a  party  in  pursuit  of  them,  and  are  driven  from  the  ground ; 
repent,  and  arc  again  received  into  favor  by  the  forgiving 
Padres.  Don  Pedro  (Jil  ile  la  Sierpe  sends  Papre  Salva  Tieu- 
RA  a  bark  called  San  Fiiniin,  and  a  long-boat  called  San 
Xavier.  With  these  they  bring  wood,  fruits,  and  horses  and 
cattle,  from  the  opposite  coast  of  Senora.  The  Padres  under- 
stand the  Indian  languages ;  they  also  have  horses  to  bear 
them  in  their  travels ;  and  they  undertake,  in  the  beginning 
of  the  year  161)9,  to  explore  dillerent  parts  of  the  country. 
Padres  Salva  Tikura  and  Piccolo  visit  a  place  called  Londo, 
eight  leagues  northward  from  Loretto.  Here  is  found  a 
populous  village  and  some  tillable  land.  Cut  the  inhabitants 
flee  as  the  Padres  approach.  They  call  it  San  Juan  de  Lon- 
do.  Next  they  attempt  to  penetrate  Vigge  Biaundo,  lying 
south  of  Loretto.  On  the  tenth  of  May,  the  soldiers,  after 
much  suffering  among  the  rugged  precipices,  refusing  to  go 
farther,  Padre  Piccolo  determines  to  go  alone,  and  climbs 
the  precipices  till  he  comes  to  a  village,  where  he  is  received 
by  the  savages  with  the  most  cordial  demonstrations  of  love. 
He  instructs  them  four  days  j  names  the  place  San  Xavier, 
and  departs.  Some  portions  of  this  mountain  valley  can  be  ir- 
rigated and  tilled  for  grains  and  fruit  trees.  The  neighboring 
heights  are  craggy  and  barren ;  about  their  bases  are  some 
fine  pasture  lands. 

From  San  Xavier,  Padre  Piccolo  goes  westward  to  the  sea, 
and  explores  its  coast  in  vain  for  a  harbor  and  habitable  lands. 
During  this  journey  he  discovers,  four  leagues  southwest  from 
San  Xavier,  a  large  village  of  tractable  Indians.  They  reside 
on  the  head  waters  of  a  fme  stream  running  westward  into 
the  Pacific  i — a  beautiful  spot  among  a  dreary  desolation. 


T  R  A  V  i;  I,  S      IN       T  11  i:      (;  A  I,  I  F  O  R  N  I  A  s 


Ifil 


I    ) 


which  he  consecrates  to  San  Kosaha.  At  San  Xavier,  durinp^ 
his  a)).sence,  tlie  Indians  and  soldiers  have  built  with  sun-dried 
bricks  sonic  small  houses  and  a  chapel.  The  Indians  from  San 
Rosalia  are  there ;  and  Padrk  Sai.va  Tikrua  consecrates  the 
Chapcd  to  San  Xavier,  with  preat  devotion  and  joy.  This 
done,  Padre  Piccolo  is  left  in  charge  at  San  Xavier,  and  Pa- 
dre Salva  Tierra  rctiirns  to  Loretto. 

The  shippin'jj  of  the  mission  at  this  time  consists  of  two  ves- 
sels, the  San  Finn>ii  and  San  Josef,  and  the  long-boat  San 
Xavier.  The  number  of  settlers  already  in  California  of  Spa- 
niards, half-l)ree<ls,  and  Mexican  Indians,  is  six  himdred  per- 
sons ;  and  as  the  means  of  supplying  them  with  food  from  the 
country  produce,  has  not  increased  in  proportion,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  redouble  their  diligence  to  obtain  them  elsewhere 
From  Mexico  they  can  export  nothing,  for  the  Captain  of  the 
Garrison  at  Loretto,  having  been  prevented  from  using  the 
converts  in  the  pearl  fishery,  and  thus  ruining  their  health, 
and  the  Padre's  hope  of  rearing  them  for  Heaven,  has,  by  his 
misre[»resentations  of  these  benevolent  men,  rendered  ineffec- 
tual Padre  Ugarte's  e/Torts  in  that  quarter.  Unfortunately  also 
at  this  juncture,  the  two  ships  of  the  California  missions  are 
cast  away !  Nothing  is  left  them  now  but  the  long-boat ! 
Distress  is  creeping  upon  them !  The  fearful,  maddening  ex- 
pectation of  starving  to  death  begins  to  be  talked  of  in  Loret- 
to, when  Padre  Sai.va  Tierr.v  takes  the  leaky  long-boat  and 
goes  to  the  great  presiding  genius  of  the  missions,  Padre  Kino, 
in  Senora,  for  relief.  These  Padres  are  devoted  friends.  They 
meet  and  embrace  each  other  warmly,  and  relate,  in  the  shades 
of  a  beautiful  evening,  all  the  hardships  which  have  befallen 
them ;  and  the  success  that  has  attended  their  labors  among 
the  savages.  Padre  Salva  Tierra  has  reduced  the  Indians  for 
the  space  of  fifty  leagues  about  Loretto ;  founded  four  towns, 
in  which  are  six  hundred  Indian  Christians ;  two  thousand 
adult  Catechumens,  besides  many  children  j  all  of  whom  are 
now  starving ! 

Padre  Kino  entered  Senora  in  1687.    He  was  appointed  to 
H* 


I.  'J 


■■        \: 


i.b 


\ 


162 


S  C  E  X  K  S       IN       T  n  K       r  A  C  1  F  I  C 


1    I 


jffl' 


the  lonely  missions  in  the  neighboihood  of  the  Indians  in  the 
upper  country,  called  Pimeria  Alta,  a  district  extending  three 
hundred  miles  to  the  northward  of  Senora,  and  embracing  the 
vallies  of  the  Gila  and  the  Colorado.  He  went  alone  among 
these  wild  Indians ;  learned  their  language ;  formed  them  into 
communities ;  prevailed  upon  them  to  cultivate  grains  and  raise 
cattle ;  and,  by  the  aid  of  subordinate  agents,  has  reformed  their 
civil  polity;  and  indoctrinated  them  in  the  mysteries  and 
hopes  of  the  Catholic  faith.  And  such  is  the  reverent  love  of 
these  savages  for  the  excellent  Padre  that  they  greet  him 
everywhere  as  little  children  do  a  kind  parent,  who  comes 
to  bless  and  love  them.  This  influence  he  uses  only  for  their 
good.  He  procures  from  his  Sovereign  an  edict  against  their 
being  seized  by  the  Spaniards  and  immersed  in  the  mines  to 
labor  till  dead !  He  acquaints  the  Vice-Royal  Government  at 
Mexico  that  the  military  powers  often  accuse  them  of  rebel- 
lion, and  make  war  upon  them  for  the  base  purpose  of  taking 
them  captives  to  dive  for  pearls  and  dig  in  the  mountains  for 
the  precious  metals,  and  procures  a  cessation  of  such  barbari- 
ty. This  is  a  great  work  of  mercy.  For  previously,  in  all 
those  regions,  it  has  been  customary  for  the  civil  and  military 
authorities  to  make  the  Indians  labor  on  the  lands  or  in  the 
mines  five  years  after  their  conversion.  They  pay  for  Chris- 
tianity in  their  hearts  by  the  servitude  of  their  bodies.  And 
seldom  do  the  poor  Indians  live  to  be  free  again,  after  this 
chain  of  avarice  is  put  upon  them.  Very  many  are  the  clus- 
ters of  little  wooden  crosses,  near  these  mines,  which  stand 
over  the  graves  of  those  who  have  been  worked  to  death  in 
their  deep  and  dismal  depths  !  Padre  Kino  gives  them  liber- 
ty ;  builds  them  houses  and  chapels ;  teaches  them  agricul- 
ture and  many  other  useful  arts.  Their  animals  now  range  on 
a  thousand  hills ;  their  ploughs  turn  the  soil  of  a  thousand 
fields ;  and  their  belfries  send  their  peals  for  prayer  and  praise 
up  a  thousand  vales ! 

Such  is  the  result  of  the  labors  of  Padre  Kino  in  Pimeria, 
and  such  the  happy  condition  of  the  numerous  tribes  of  In- 


n 


TRAVELS      IN 


HE      CALIFORNIA  S 


163 


<    I' 


(lians  on  the  waters  of  the  Gila  and  Colorado  in  the  year  1700. 
These  Paihes  have  wrought  well  in  the  vineyards  of  the  Faith. 
And  they  are  now  met  to  converse  about  the  fate  of  these  la- 
bors. They  have  learned  that  malice  lias  destroyed  their  in- 
terest in  Mexico  and  Spain.  They  know  that  the  lives  of  the 
garrison  at  Loretto  depend  on  their  sole  energy  and  means. 
And  well  would  it  be  for  the  distressed  everywhere  if  the  re- 
lief which  they  need  were  dependent  on  such  hearts  and  heads 
as  those  of  the  Padres  Kino  and  Salva  Tierka.  The  Indiah 
farms  are  laid  under  contribution,  and  the  keel  of  genuine 
mercy  is  fast  cutting  its  way  to  Loretto  to  feed  the  dying ! 
Words,  wishes,  speeches,  associations,  societies,  general  and 
special  committee  rooms,  and  new^spapers  devoted  to  "  the 
cause,"  are  the  outlets  and  substance  of  benevolence  in  the 
seventeenth  century — an  untiring  chase  after  the  shade  of  a 
great  idea.  In  the  seventeenth,  these  hated  priests  of  an 
odious  order,  whose  name  has  come  to  be  the  common  term 
of  the  most  refined  knavery,  and  even  introduced  into  our 
lexicons  as  the  appellation  for  the  basest  villany,  perform  acts 
of  the  highest  virtue,  endure  hardships  of  the  severest  charac- 
ter, and  make  sacrifices  of  the  noblest  nature,  for  a  class  of 
beings  who  will  never  have  intelligence  enough  to  appreciate 
them. 

After  succors  are  sent  to  California,  these  Padres  agree  to 
explore  the  northwest  country,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether 
California  be  an  island,  or  whether  it  be  merely  a  peninsula. 
This  question  is  deemed  of  great  moment  to  the  missions  in 
Cahfoinia ;  for  if  supplies  can  be  sent  by  land  from  Padre 
Kino's  mission  to  Loretto,  the  expense  of  shipping  to  carry 
them  across  the  Gulf  will  be  avoided,  and  the  certainty  of 
their  arrival  much  increased.  Accordingly,  it  is  agreed 
that  Padres  Kino  and  Salva  Tierra  shall  lake  differ- 
ent routes  towards  the '  Colorado.  They  determine  to 
visit,  on  the  way.  Padre  Kino's  converts  at  the  several 
missions  in  that  region,  and  meet  at  Mission  de  Dolores. 
Accordingly  Padre    Salva   Tierra  goes  by  San  Ignacio, 


f 


I 

i! 
1' 


f- 


It 


H 


i-  St 


164 


S  C  i:  N  E  S      IN       T  1!  K       PACIFIC 


Sjfn  Diepo  de  UtjuUoa,  and  San  Dippo  de  Pitquin,  to 
river  Caborca,  and  follows  its  course  to  Tibutaraa,  Axi, 
Concepcion  de  Caborca ;  while  Padrk  Kino  takes  the 
route  by  Cocospcra,  San  Simon  and  Jude ;  strikes  the 
river  Caborca  and  follows  its  banks  through  TierraTibutama, 
and  other  villages,  to  the  place  of  rendezvous.  Thence  the 
Padres,  accompanied  by  ten  soldiers,  go  northward  to  San 
Eduardo  de  Baissla,  San  Luis  de  Bacapa,  and  thence  twelve 
leagues  to  San  JMarcello.  This  latter  place  lies  northeast 
from  the  mouth  of  the  river  Colorado,  fifty  leagues  north  of 
the  latitude  of  the  Gila,  the  same  distance  from  the  river  Ca- 
borca and  the  same  distance  eastward  from  San  Xavicr  del 
Bac.  The  soil  of  this  valley  is  fit  for  tillage  and  pasturage, 
and  abounding  in  water  for  all  uses.  It  is  surrounded  by 
deserts  and  lofty  mountains.  Here  they  are  informed  by  the 
Indians  of  two  ways  to  approach  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado ; 
the  one  to  the  right  over  the  mountains  and  valley  of  Santa 
Clara,  the  other  and  the  shorter  along  the  coast  over  a  broad 
tract  of  sands.  T  Padres  desire  to  examine  the  coast, 
and  for  this  reason,  unfortunately,  choose  the  latter  route. 
They  travel  thirty  leagues  on  the  south  side  of  the  mountains 
in  search  of  the  Gulf;  pass  a  large  section  of  the  mountains, 
composed  of  pumice  stone ;  and  on  the  nineteenth  of  March, 
arrive  at  the  sandy  waste.  On  the  twentieth.  Padre  Kino 
and  Captain  Mateo  Mange,  ascend  a  lofty  peak  in  Lat.  30^ 
N.,  and  not  only  see  the  Gulf  but  the  opposite  shore  and 
mountains  of  California.  On  the  twenty-first  they  reach  the 
beach.  Want  of  fresh  water,  and  the  difficulty  of  wading  in 
the  loose  and  burning  sand,  compels  them  to  return  to  Marcel- 
lo,  and  take  a  higher  track,  in  Lat.  32^  30',  where  they  ascend 
a  hill  of  moderate  height,  from  which  are  clearly  seen  the  moun- 
tains of  California,  the  termination  of  the  Gulf,  the  mouth  of  the 
Colorado,  the  junction  of  California*  with  the  continent !  The 
Padre  Kino  joyfully  returns  to  San  Marcello  to  build  a  church 
and  give  directions  for  a  new  mission,  while  Salva  Tierra  goes 
to  Caborca  Delores  and  the  other  missions  of  Senora,  collect- 


I! 


'k4 
If 

Ji 


T  II  A  V  K  I,  S       I  N        r  II  K      C  A  I.  I  r  O  U  N  I  A  s  . 


lt)5 


ing  chiirilie.s  for  California,  and  with  heightened  expectations 
of  saving  the  lives  of  his  friends  at  Lorelto,  ships  himself 
and  thern  in  the  old  long-Loat  San  Xavier  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river  lliaqui,  and  arrives  at  Loretlo  the  latter  end  of 
April,  1701.  Joy  fdls  the  camp  on  the  arrival  of  the  good 
Padre  ;  and  earnest  thanksgivings  are  offered  in  the  chapel  by 
his  spiritual  children  on  account  of  his  return. 

Here  we  leave  California  for  a  brief  space  to  follow  good 
old  Padre  Kino  through  the  labors  of  his  last  days.  In  No- 
vember of  1701  he  takes  another  excursion  to  San  Mnrcello 
by  a  new  route,  and  thence  onward  to  the  Gila.  He  fords 
this  river  at  San  Dionysio  near  its  junction  with  the  Colorado  j 
and  having  viewed  the  neighboring  country,  repasses  the  Gila 
and  descends  the  Colorado  twenty  leagues,  among  the  villages 
of  the  Yumas  and  Quinquimas.  Here  vast  numbers  of  Indians 
come  to  see  the  Padre  and  hear  him  speak  of  the  white  man's 
God.  The  Colorado  at  this  place  is  two  hundred  yards  wide. 
The  Indians  swim  it.  If  they  desire  to  take  anything  across, 
it  is  placed  in  a  water-tight  basket,  made  of  rushes  and  herbs 
called  Corysta,  and  floated  along  before  them.  Padke  Kino 
crosses  the  river  on  a  raft  made  of  tree-tops,  and  finds  on  the 
other  shore,  great  numbers  of  Quinquimas,  Coanopas,  Bagio- 
pas  and  Octguanes  Indians,  to  whom  he  explains,  by  means 
of  interpreters,  the  nature  of  the  true  God  and  the  after  state. 
He  travels  on  foot  three  leagues  to  the  residence  of  the  chief 
of  the  Quinquimas.  The  country  over  which  he  passes  is 
level,  and  covered  with  a  soil  fit  for  tillage  and  grazing.  He 
calls  the  place  Presentacion  de  Nuestra  Senora.  In  this  neigh- 
borhood he  sees  ten  thousand  Indians.  Padre  Kino  is  very 
desirous  of  travelling  to  Monterey  and  Cape  Mendocino. 
But  it  being  impossible  for  his  animals  to  ford  the  river,  he 
reluctantly  gives  up  the  hope  of  progressing  farther,  and 
returns  to  his  missions  in  Pimeria.  > 

In  February,  1702,  Padre  Kino  journeys  in  company  with 
Martin  Gonzales.  On  the  twenty-eighth  they  arrive  at  San  Dio- 
nysio, at  the  junction  of  the  Gila  and  Colorado.     On  the  way 


M 


166 


S  (    K  N  K  S 


T  UK       V  A  (•  I  Kl  <• 


and  at  this  place  the  Indians  tiiinii;r  the  path  of  this  good  man, 
kneeling  like  chihhcn  to  a  loved  grarulsiie  for  a  blessing. 
In  March  they  advance  as  far  as  the  village  of  the  Quin- 
quimas,  and  name  it  San  Rudcsindo.  These  Indians  show 
much  love  towards  the  Padres,  and  even  towarils  the  beasts 
that  bear  them.  The  good  Padre  Gonzales  is  afl'ected  to  tears 
by  these  <lcmonstrations ;  and  strips  oil'  a  part  of  his  own 
wardrobe  to  clothe  an  aged  man  who  follows  him.  They 
now  travel  down  the  Colorado  to  its  entrance  into  the  Gulf. 
Here  many  Indians  come  from  the  western  shore  and  entreat 
the  Padres  to  pass  over  into  their  country.  They  learn  from 
them  that  the  Pacific  is  ten  days'  journey  from  this  place.  The 
night  of  the  tenth  is  spent  at  the  point  where  the  river  and  the 
Gulf  meet.  The  tide  rises  very  high  and  swashes  near  their 
couches ;  horned  night-owls  hoot  on  the  crags  ;  Padre  Gon- 
zales groans  with  extreme  illness !  These  Padres  have  de- 
signed to  cross  the  river  at  this  place,  and  travel  over  the 
mountains  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  But  Padre  Kino  sees  the 
necessity  of  returning  with  his  sick  brother.  He  succeeds  in 
getting  him  to  the  mission  of  Tibutama,  where  he  dies. 
Death  in  the  wilderness,  to  one  who  goes  into  its  depths  to 
sow  the  seeds  of  salvation,  is  sweet.  The  desires  of  the  mind 
touch  the  earth  lightly.  Their  objects  are  things  of  thought 
and  trust.  The  hand  of  hope  is  laid  on  the  skies !  The  eye 
follows  it  to  the  temple  of  immortal  faith ;  is  absorbed  and 
fixed  there,  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  material.  The 
pains  incident  to  the  separation  of  the  living  principle  from 
the  body,  are  like  brambles  which  one  passes  to  fields  of 
flowers  and  fiuits,  singing  birds,  pebbly  streams,  and  odorous 
shades.  And  the  grave  itself  becomes  in  truth  the  pass-way 
only  to  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  proper  objects  of  the  moral 
sense,  without  limit  or  satiety.  So  this  missionary  dies,  and 
is  buried  among  the  graves  of  Indian  Christians  at  Tibutama. 
The  years  1703,  1704,  and  1705,  Padue  Kino  spends  in 
building  up  the  missions  of  Pimeria,  and  in  resisting  the  per- 
secution raised  against  him  because  he  will  not  permit  the 


T 


I  fj 


T  n  A  V  K  I.  5      IN       T  II  i;       (•  A  I.  I  I   o  U  N  I  A  S 


107 


owners  of  the  mines  and  plimtulloris  to  L'lislave  lils  converts. 
Ilavinf  no  one  to  assist  iiiin  in  so  \vi»U;  a  province,  \n:  is  al- 
most  constantly  travelling  from  oim  mission  to  another,  ex- 
horting, encourai^inr^,  disciplining,  anil  protecting  his  spiritual 
children.     These  duties  task  severely  the  tottering  strength  of 
the  good  old  man.     But  he   labors  without  intermission  or 
discouragement,  as  he  ripens  lor  his  reward.     Nor  iioes  his 
ardent  interest  in  the  Californian  missions  ahate.     Every  few 
months  he  forwards  to  Lorelto  his  largesses  of  provisions  and 
animals.     But  as  the  expense  of  sujjporting  shipping  for  that 
purpose  becomes  more  and  more  ap[)arent  and  perplexing,  he 
determines  once  more  to  attempt  an  exploration  of  a  land 
route,  by  which  supplies  can  be  sent  from  the  mission  on  the 
Gila  down  the  coast  to  Loretto.     Accordingly,  in  1706,  he 
turns  his  footsteps  again  towards  the  Colorado,  in  company 
with  the  chief  military  olTicers  of  Senora,  and  the  Franciscan 
monk,  Manuel  de  Ojuela.      This  last  expedition  of  Padke 
Kino  results  in  confirming  his  previous  discoveries.     But  be- 
ing unable  to  penetrate  to  Loretto,  he  returns  to  his  missions, 
and  defends  them  with  the  same  dauntless  courage  against  the 
avarice  and  cruelty  of  the  miners,  and  the  civil  and  military 
powers,  till  1710,  when  he  passes  from  the  scenes  of  his  be- 
nevolence and  trials  to  his  grave. 

There  are  few  good  men  in  the  world.     Consequently,  when 
one  of  this  class  dies,  there  is  a  jewel  lost  from  the  crown  of 
earthly  virtue.     ALL  feel  the  loss  of  its  light,  and  grope 
nearer  to  the  ground   in  their  way  onward  to  their  destiny. 
Padre  Kino  has  given  his  best  energies  to  the  Pimerian  and 
Californian  missions.     The  poor  Indians  on  both  sides  of  the 
Gulf  have  been  accustomed  to  cat  his  bread  and  receive  his 
blessing.     The  bells  now  toll  through  all  Pimeria  and  Senora, 
at  Loretto  and  San  Xavier.     The  Indians  kneel  in  their  rude 
chapels,  and  pray  for  his  soul,  and  invoke  for  him  the  good 
fellowship  of  departed  saints.     Padre  Kino  is  buried  among 
the  heights  of  Pimeria,  the  scene  of  his  trials  and  hopes.    His 
grave  is  lost  among  the  driving  sands  of  those  desolate  re- 
gions ;  but  his  good  deeds  will  live  for  ever. 


t!l 


A 


f   « 


CHAPTER  X. 


!l! 


Meeting  of  PAmiKs  Salva  Tikhra  and  Ugarte— A  Plot— Burning  of  San 
Xavier — Ugarte  at  San  Xuvicr— Famine — A  Runaway — A  Murder — 
A  Campaign — Rejoicings— A  Tempest — An  Arrival  o!' Food  and  Sol- 
diers— MeaMires  for  the  Advaneementof  the  Conquest— Exploration  of 
the  Interior— Sacking  of  San  Xavier — Massaeres — A  Court  Martial— 
An  Execution — Peace — E.tnedition  to  the  iNv  nh — Distress— A  Council, 
and  its  Results — Endu- ince — Roaming  and  Starving— An  Attack — 
Saia'a  TiERRA  leaves  Califurnia — His  Return — Extension  of  the  Con- 
<iuest — Ligui,  and  a  great  Example — A  Chastisement — A  murderous 
Attempt — Mulege — Cada  Kaaman — The  Triumph  of  the  Good — Poi- 
son— Dealli. 

DuuiXG  tlie  absence  of  Papre  Salva  Tii:i{RA  in  Pimeria, 
Padre  Uf^arte  h:is  arrived  at  Loretto  with  a  few  supplies. 
The  meeting  of  these  two  men  in  that  distant  hind  is  warm 
and  hearty.  They  have  labored  long  in  the  same  cause — 
have  hoped  ardently  for  the  same  result — the  growth  of  the 
tree  of  life  on  the  .shores  of  California.  The  one  has  used 
his  utmost  energies  at  Mexico  and  Guatlalaxara  to  procure 
the  means  to  support  the  other,  while  breaking  up  the  ground 
and  casting  in  the  seed.  And  v.'ht-n  all  his  etlorts  are  closing 
in  disappointment,  and  the  dark  night  of  malice  is  casting 
gloom  over  them,  and  his  expectations  are  giving  place  to 
despair,  he  flies  to  Iiis  fellow-laborer  in  the  wilderness,  to  die 
with  him,  if  need  be,  in  a  last  struggle  to  bring  the  Californian 
Indians  within  the  fold  of  the  Catholic  faith.  After  thanks 
are  renden  d  to  God  for  the  ffivor  of  meeting  again,  the  Pa- 
dres earnestly  resolve  to  sustain  the  sinking  missions.  It  is 
agreed,  therefore,  that  Padre  Piccolo  shall  go  to  Mexico  and 
make  farther  trial  to  obtain  funds  for  that  purpose.  He  ac- 
cordingly puts  to  sea,  but  is  drivenlDack  by  a  tempest;  and 
again  he  leaves  the  hai-bor,  but  is  again  con>pelled  to  return. 


IF 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIF0RMA8 


169 


These  unfavorable  trials  induce  him  to  postpone  his  voyage 
to  a  more  favorable  seaTOn.  He  returas,  therefore,  to  his 
mission  at  San  Xavier,  and  Padre  Ugarte  remains  at  Loretto 
with  Padre  Salva  Tierra,  to  learn  the  Indian  language,  and 
assist  wherever  his  services  may  be  needed. 

Another  class  of  events  now  transpire  which  change  some- 
what the  aspect  of  affairs  among  them,  and  give  iiope  of 
better  things.  The  military  commandant,  who  has,  by  his 
misrepresentations,  rendered  abortive  the  efforts  cf  Padre 
Ugarte,  at  Mexico,  finds  that  the  authorities  will  not  relieve 
him  from  subordination  to  the  Padres,  and  resigns.  Captain 
Don  Antonio  'H.^rcia  de  Mendoza  is  therefore  succeeded  by  one 
Isadore  de  Figueroa.  This  man,  however,  proves  unworthy 
of  his  trust  in  a  difficulty  with  the  savages  of  San  Xavier. 
The  Indians  of  that  mission  plan  the  murder  of  Padre  Piccolo. 
And  led  on  by  the  conjurors,  or  priests  of  their  old  religion^ 
they  come  down  upon  the  few  converts  who  remain  faithful, 
with  such  violence  as  to  get  possession  of  the  premises ;  and 
enraged  at  the  Padre's  escape  to  Loretto,  burn  the  mission 
buildings  and  furniture.  A  number  of  the  converts  have  been 
killed  in  this  outbreak ;  the  fields  of  San  Xavier,  the  only 
grounds  within  the  limits  of  the  missions  on  which  grain  can 
be  grown,  arc  laid  waste  ;  the  success  of  the  savages  in  this 
instance  will  embolden  them  to  attack  Loretto.  All  these, 
as  reasons,  determine  the  Padres  to  send  Captain  Figueroa 
with  his  roldiers  to  chastise  them  and  recover  tht:  mission. 
Accordingly  he  marches  his  troops  to  San  Xavier.  The  In- 
dians flee  before  hiro.  The  soldiers  desire  to  pursue  them. 
But  the  con.mander  forbids  it ;  and  otherwise  shows  such  a 
want  of  courage  and  mai»lintss>  that  the  soldiers  depose  him, 
and  elect  in  his  stead,  Don  Estevan  Rodriguez  Lorenzo, 
who  leads  them  in  pursuit  among  the  breaks  of  the  moun- 
tains ;  fcut  without  success. 

At  the  end  of  this  year,  1700,  Padre  Ugarte  having  learn- 
ed the  Indian  language,  and  the  Indians  of  San  Xavier  having 
become  satisfied  and  peaceable,  it  is  resolved  to  rebuild  the 
15 


4 


I? 


170 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


mission  and  put  it  under  his  charge.     Accordingly  he  leaves 
Loretto  for  that  purpose.     But  on  arriving  there,  the  Indians, 
through  fear  of  the  soldiers  that  accompany  hiin,  run  into  the 
mountains.    The  Padre,  nowise  discouraged  by  th:s  circum- 
stance, takes  up  his  quarters  on  the  site  of  the  burned  mission, 
and  awaits  their  return.     Meanwhile  the  soldiers,  not  having 
Indians  to  serve  them,  prove  troublesome.     They  abuse  the 
Padre  and  one  another  in  such  manner  that  he  determines 
to  trust  himself  with  the  Indians,  rather  than  any  longer 
suffer  their  insolent  behavior;  and  accordingly  sends  them 
back  to  Loretto.     After  the  departure  of  the  soldiers.  Padre 
Ugarte  remaias  alone  all  day  about  the  ashes  of  the  mission 
and  the  graves  of  those  who  were  killed  at  the  time  it  was 
destroyed  !    He  does  not  know  how  soon  they  will  fall  upon 
him  likewise,  and  take  his  life.    Night  comes  on  and  passes 
away ;  and  he  is  yet  alone.    At  daylight  a  little  Indian  lad 
comes  shyly,    about  the  Padre's  couch ;  is  treated  kindly  by 
him ;  examines  the  fields,  and  hastily  returns  to  his  tribe : 
and  shortly  afterward  the  good  Padre  is  surrounded  by  hun- 
dreds of  Indians  rejoicing  at  his  arrival,  and  protesting  that 
soldiers  are  disagreeable  members  of  their  community.     The 
Padre  and  the  Indians  now  unite  their  energies  to  rebuild  the 
mission.    The  first  labor  of  Ugarte  is,  to  secure  their  regular 
attendance  on  the  catechising,  the  prayers  and  mass ;  and  by 
kind  and  affable  treatment,  to  alienate  them  from  their  sorcer- 
ers ;  the  second  is,  to  accustom  them  to  till  the  land  and  take 
care  of  the  cattle.    To  accomplish  these  objects  he  induces 
them  early  in  the  morning  to  attend  mass ;  after  which  he 
feeds  those  who  will  engage  in  erecting  the  church  or  clear- 
ing the  land  for  cultivation,  or  making  trenches  for  irrigation, 
or  digging  holes  for  planting  trees,  or  preparing  the  ground 
for  sowing  seed.     In  the  progress  of  these  labors  the  good 
Padre  works  more  than  any  of  them.     He  is  overseer'  brick- 
layer and   filmier.     He  is  first  in  bringing  stones,  first  in 
treading  clay  for  mortar,  in  mixing  sand,  cutting,  carrying, 
bringing  timber,  removing  earth  and  fixing  materials ;  some- 


I 


TRAVELS      IN      TITE       CALIFORNIA  S. 


171 


t'lmof?  spading  up  the  ground,  sometimes  splitting  rock  with 
a  crowbar,  sometimes  turning  water  into  the  trenches,  and 
at  others  leading  the  beasts  and  cattle,  which  he  has  procured 
for  his  mission,  to  pasture  and  to  water.  By  his  own  ex- 
ample he  teaches  them  to  throw  off  their  natural  sloth,  to  feed 
themselves  and  live  like  rational  beings.  But  this  great  ex- 
ample does  not  suffice  to  wean  them  from  a  love  of  the  woods, 
and  a  listless  and  starving  inaction.  A  thousand  times  they 
trj  his  patience,  by  coming  late  to  mass  and  to  work,  and  by 
running  away  and  jeering  him,  and  vSomelimes  threatening  and 
forming  combinations  to  take  his  life.  All  this  the  old  man 
bears  .vith  unwearied  patience,  kindness,  and  holy  fortitude. 
In  the  evening  the  Padre  leads  them  again  to  their  devotions. 
At  this  time  the  rosary  is  prayed  over,  and  the  catechism  ex- 
plained J  and  this  service  is  followed  by  the  distribution  of 
some  provisions. 

At  first  these  Indians  jest  and  jeer  at  the  service,  and  mock^ 
at  what  he  says.  This  the  Padre  bears  patiently,  till  he  finds 
forbearance  increases  the  evil,  and  then  makes  a  very  dan- 
gerous attempt  to  suppress  it.  An  Indian  in  high  repute 
among  his  fellows  for  physical  strength,  stands  near  hira 
during  service,  and  mocks  at  all  that  he  does.  The  other  In- 
diaas,  regarding  bodily  strength  as  the  only  quality  of  great- 
ness, are  vastly  pleased  that  their  champion  seems  the  superior 
of  the  Padre.  Ugarte  perceives  by  their  bearing,  that  he  is 
losing  their  confidence.  He  therefore  seizes  the  savage,  ia 
the  mi(iSt  of  his  profanity,  by  the  hair  of  his  head,  and  swings 
him  to  and  fro,  with  determine  '  violence,  tUl  he  begs  for  quar- 
ter. This  so  frightens  the  tribe  that  they  afterwards  behave 
with  strict  decorum  when  engaged  in  religious  duties.  The 
work  of  building  the  mission  edifices,  however,  goes  on  slowly. 
The  Padre,  cartful  not  to  weary  his  Indians  with  labor,  at  fre- 
quent intervals  instructs  their  stupid  minds  in  the  best  methods 
of  performing  their  tasks,  and  most  especially,  in  the  know- 
ledge of  their  Maker.  In  succeeding  years  he  enjoys  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  his  neophytes  well  instructed  in  the  doc- 


I  fl 

•      til 

\ 

r 

(I 

i  K 


* 


172 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


trines  of  the  Catholic  Church,  iirired  to  patient  labor,  and 
residing  in  comfortable  houses,  ile  has  turned  the  mountain 
streams  along  the  crags,  and  changed  the  barren  dust  of  the 
mountains  into  cultivated  fields,  burdened  with  harvests  of 
wheat,  maize,  and  other  grains.  He  even  makes  generous 
wines,  sufficient  to  supply  the  missions  in  California,  and  an 
overplus  to  exchange  in  Mexico  for  other  goods.  He  like- 
wise breeds  horses  and  sheep,  cattle  and  mules.  Indeed,  such 
is  the  success  of  Padre  Ugarte's  fortitude  and  industry,  that 
in  1707  he  becomes  the  Purveyor-General  of  the  missions, 
and  relieves  them  by  the  produce  of  his  converts'  labor,  from 
some  of  the  fears  of  starvation  on  that  desolate  coast. 

Thus  has  this  excellent  man,  in  the  course  of  seven  years, 
opened,  by  his  individual  influence  on  the  Californian  Indians, 
a  large  plantation,  the  products  of  which,  in  favorable  seasons, 
feed  thousands  of  savages  and  seven  hundred  whites.  His 
efforts  now  take  another  direction.  His  sheep,  brought  origi- 
^lally  from  the  opposite  coast,  have  increased  to  such  an  ex- 
tent, as  to  yield  large  quantities  of  wool.  This  the  Padre 
determines  shall  be  made  to  clothe  his  naked  Indians.  He, 
therefore,  with  his  own  hands,  makes  spinning-wheels,  looms, 
and  other  weaving  apparatus,  and  teaches  his  Indians  to  use 
them.  In  order  to  perfect  them  in  these  manufactures,  he 
obtains  a  master  weaver,  one  Antonio  Moran,  from  Tepic, 
under  a  salary  of  five  hundred  dollars  per  annum,  to  instruct 
them  in  weaving,  and  various  other  handicrafts.  By  these 
new  manufactures,  the  missions  are  saved  vast  expenses  for 
sail-cloth  and  baize.  The  Indians  are  clad ;  the  grains  and 
vegetables,  although  not  a  full  supply,  are  ordinarily  suf- 
ficient to  prevent  famine.  The  cattle  and  the  other  animals 
being  added  to  these,  suffice  to  meet  the  necessities  of  the 
Californian  missions.  A  deed  of  true  benevolence  performed, 
where  human  praise  can  never  speak  of  it,  is  a  jewel  in  the 
crown  of  our  nature,  whicti  can  never  be  dimmed.  How  it 
beams  on  the  robes  of  the  good  man  as  he  steps  intn  hla 
grave !    How  it  glistens  in  the  tear  of  silent  gratitude  ♦'at  is 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


173 


\      ) 


shetl  over  the  tomb  of  the  dead,  as  ages  crumble  it  into  dust ! 
How  rich  a  halo  does  it  throw  back  on  all  after  time,  a  rem- 
nant light  of  Bethlehem's  holy  star,  to  lead  the  living  to  the 
same  happy  use  of  their  capacities  !  These  Indians'  remote 
descendants  will  forget  this  good  man.  But  his  deeds  will 
live  in  their  virtues. 

We  will  now  look  into  the  movements  of  Padres  Salva 
TiERRA  and  Piccolo.  Near  the  end  of  the  year  1701,  the  pro- 
visions which  Padre  Kino  has  sent  to  Loretto,  are  exhausted, 
and  Padre  Piccolo's  departure  to  Mexico  for  a  supply  is  has- 
tened. He  sails  on  the  second  of  December,  leaving  the  Pa- 
dres, the  garrison  and  Indians  in  absolute  want.  For  sixty  days 
they  subsist  on  roots,  wild  fruits,  and  a  few  fish  which  they 
find  washed  up  on  the  shore.  On  the  twenty-ninth  of  January, 
1702,  however,  their  distress  is  changed  to  gladness  by  the 
arrival  of  a  boat  from  Padre  Piccolo,  laden  with  meat,  maize, 
and  other  provisions.  This  supply,  in  the  bountiful  hands  of 
Padre  Salva  Tierra,  lasts  but  a  short  time ;  and  want  returns 
upon  them  with  all  its  horrors.  At  length  the  last  tilthy  piece 
of  laoat  is  consumed,  and  they  betake  themselves,  Indians  and 
P  ivlrcs  and  garrison,  to  the  shores  for  fish,  and  to  the  moun- 
tains for  Pitahayas  and  other  fruits  and  roots.  Amidst  these 
sufferings  occurs  a  difficulty  with  the  Indians.  A  soldier  by 
the  name  of  Poblano  has  married  one  of  the  Indian  convcrtn. 
In  the  month  of  June  her  mother  visits  her  and  invites  her 
home  to  the  joyful  ingathering  of  the  Pitahayas.  They  go 
away  in  the  night  unperceived,  and  run  to  the  mountains.  The 
next  morning  the  soHier  pursues  them  a  limited  distant  t,  but 
returns  imsuccessful.  A  day  or  two  afterwards,  he  goes  with 
a  Califorman  Indian  near  a  village,  where  they  hear  a  great 
deal  of  shouting  and  merriment.  An  old  Indian,  whom  they 
meet,  advises  them  to  return,  because  their  lives  will  be  en- 
danjrered  by  proceeding:  The  soldier  insults  the  cM  man  and 
shoots  him.  The  noise  ^f  the  discharged  musket  rouses  the 
village,  and  the  soldier  dues,  pterced  with  arrows.  His  Indian 
15^ 


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174 


SCENES      IX       THE      PACIFIC. 


companion  is  wounded,  but  brings  to  Loretto  information  of 
this  misfortune. 

The  Padres  of  San  Xa\'ier  return  to  Loretto,  and  prepare  to 
march  in  pursuit  of  the  murderers.  The  Indians,  learning 
this  movement,  gather  all  their  forces  and  destroy  the  corn 
fields  of  San  Xavier,  and  a  few  goats,  on  whose  milk  the  Pa- 
dres are  subsisting,  during  this  calamitous  famine.  The  sol- 
diers arrive  in  time  to  prevent  the  destruction  of  the  buildings. 
At  length  the  parties  begin  to  skirmish,  and  four  of  the 
Indians  are  killed.  But  their  numbers  and  violence  increase 
daily.  The  troops  suffer  incredible  hardship  among  the  preci- 
pices, and  breaks  of  the  mountains.  Distress  and  consterna- 
tion are  beginning  to  seize  them.  Death  is  looked  for  as 
inevitable.  But  they  rejoice  again;  they  breathe  freely 
again ,  a  bark  comes  over  the  tranquil  and  heated  sea,  with 
provisions  and  a  recruit  of  soldiers ;  and  runners  are  sent  from 
Loretto  to  San  Xavier,  to  give  all  a  speedy  share  of  the  joy- 
ful news ;  they  eat  and  drink  again  in  the  Californian  missions ! 
The  Indians  are  intimidated  by  the  arrival  of  fresh  troops, 
and  submit ;  and  the  grateful  Padres  give  thanks  to  God  in  a 
solemn  Te  Deum  for  this  unexpected  deliverance. 

Great  anxiety  is  felt  in  California  for  the  fate  of  Padre 
Piccolo.  No  tidings  of  him  have  been  received  since  he  left 
the  port  of  Loretto.  He  has,  however,  arrived  safely  at 
Cinaloa,  about  the  first  of  Vebmary,  1702,  and  sent  them 
supplies ;  has  hastened  thence  to  Guadalaxara  and  Mexico  ; 
by  indefatigable  exertions  has  obtained  six  thousand  dollars 
from  the  Government  for  the  payment  of  soldiers;  and 
having  collected  charities  from  a  few  individuals,  has  pur- 
chased goods  for  the  relief  of  the  most  urgent  necessities  of 
the  missions ;  has  obtained  a  guarantee  of  Don  Josef  de  La 
Puente  Marquis  de  Villa  Puente,  for  the  support  of  three  new 
missions ;  and  from  Nicolas  de  Arteaga,  an  offer  to  support 
anothrr  ;  and  from  the  Government,  six  hundre(f  dollars  per 
annum  thereafter ;  has  secured  the  ap{K)intment  of  two  Padres, 
Juan  Manuel  de  Bassaldua  and  Geronimo  Minutili,  as  mis- 


'- 1 


TRAVELS      I  .N       THE       C  A  LI  F  0  R  N  I  A  9 


175 


sionaries  to  California ;  and  has  purchased  a  vessel  at  Aca- 
pulco,  called  Nuestra  Scnora  del  Rtjsario ;  has  embarked  at 
Matanchel  with  his  goods,  provisions,  his  brethren,  and  some 
artisans,  for  Loretto.  Fine  breezes  bear  them  into  the  Gulf; 
then  a  tempest  swoops  down  upon  them  and  compels  them  to 
throw  overboard  that  part  of  the  cargo  which  is  stowed  on 
deck ;  but  helping  gales  bear  them  to  their  destined  port, 
on  the  twenty-eighth  of  October,  1702. 

And  now  again  the  cross  is  raised  before  the  people ;  the 
lofty  anthem  of  thanksgiving  swells  up  the  parched  moun- 
tain, and  every  knee  bows  to  God  and  Senora  de  Loretto. 
Most  of  the  garrison  had  been  discharged  for  want  of  money 
to  pay  their  wages ;  few  have  remained  to  protect  the  Pa- 
dres. Joyfully  now  do  they  all  gather  about  Padre  Piccolo, 
with  warm  effusions  of  thanks  for  his  expedition,  and  engage 
anew  to  bear  arms,  and  beseech  the  mercies  of  God  for  the 
missions  of  California.  This  reinforcement  of  troops,  arti- 
sans, and  Padies,  and  the  supplies  of  provisions  and  money, 
and  the  guarantees  for  the  support  of  four  new  missions,  and 
the  promised  annuity  from  the  Government,  encourage  Padre 
Salva  Tierra  to  form  higher  designs  for  the  enlargement  of 
his  operations.  To  effect  them  in  the  best  manner,  he  con- 
fers with  all  the  Padres  on  the  best  measures ;  and  the  con- 
clusion is,  that  Padre  Ugarte  shall  go  to  Senora  and  procure 
cattle  for  breeding,  an<l  horses  and  mules  for  draught  and  rid- 
ing ;  that  Padre  Minutili  shall  remain  at  Loretto  with  Padre 
Salva  Tierra;  and  that  Padre  Bassaldua  Jiall  accompany 
Padre  Piccolo  to  San  Xavier,  where  he  may  learn  the  Indian 
language,  and  otherwise  prepare  himself  for  future  labor.  In 
obedience  to  these  determinations.  Padre  Ugarte  sails  in  the 
beginning  of  November;  but  after  being  absent  a  few  days, 
is  driven  ba-ik  by  contrary  winds.  In  December  he  sails 
again,  and  happily  arrives  at  Guaymas,  Pimeria,  in  February 
1703.  He  reappears  at  Loretto  with  a  fine  quantity  of  black 
cattle,  sheep,  horses,  mules,  and  provisions. 

In  March  of  this  year,  Padre  Salva  Tierra  re-commences 


'♦•    I 


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176 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


:1 


txploring  the  country.  He  takes  with  him  the  Captain  ami 
some  soldiers,  ami  proceeds  to  San  Xavier,  where  he  is  joined 
by  Padres  Piccolo  and  Bassaldua.  Thence  they  travel  with 
great  difficulty  over  the  thirsty  mountains  to  the  Pacific,  and 
search  the  coast  far  northward  for  a  harbor,  fresh  water,  and 
tillable  land.  None  is  found  which  will  shelter  ships  from 
the  prevailing  winds.  Some  land,  with  a  good  soil,  is  dis- 
covered ;  but  the  absence  of  water  for  irrigation  renders  it 
useless.  By  going  south,  however,  they  fall  upon  the  little 
river  San  Xavier.  Here  they  find  a  few  Indians  who,  after  run- 
ning away,  are  persuaded  to  show  themselves  friends.  On 
their  return  these  "Padres  pass  two  rancherias,  the  inhabitants 
of  which  they  induce  to  move  nearer  to  I  oretto.  This  jour- 
ney proves  fruitless.  They  have  discovered  no  suitable  place 
for  the  establishment  of  a  new  mission.  In  May,  they 
make  another,  in  search  of  a  river  emptying  into  the  sea 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  north  of  Loretto.  Having  ar- 
rived near  Concepcion  Bay,  they  fall  in  with  a  large  ranche- 
ria  of  Indians,  who  seize  their  bows  and  arrows  and  come 
out  to  destroy  them.  The  Californian  Indians,  however,  who 
are  acting  as  guides  to  the  Padres,  explain  the  benevolent 
object  01  their  visit; and  all  are  received  as  friends,  and 
treated  with  the  kindest  hospitality.  These  Indians  inform 
the  Padres  of  a  large  tract  of  crags  and  abysses  lying  be- 
tween them  and  the  river  that  they  seek,  which  it  is  impos- 
sible to  pass,  and  they  return  to  Loretto. 

A  dismal  misfortune  now  falls  on  California.  Some  Indi- 
ans arrive  at  Loretto  full  of  fright  and  sorrow,  from  whom  the 
Padres  learn  that  the  wretch  who  formed  the  last  conspiracy, 
the  murderer  of  the  soldier  Poblano,  and  incendiary  of  the 
mission  of  San  Xavier,  has  fomented  discontent,  assembled 
the  rancherias,  and  massacred  all  the  adult  converts  at  San 
Xavier,  except  the  few  who  have  escaped  to  Loretto.  This 
sad  news  determines  the  Padres  and  the  Captain  to  punish 
those  factious  individuals,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  prevent  such 
outrages  in  future.    Accordingly  the  Captain  and  soldiers  fall 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIF0RNIA8. 


177 


on  the  conspirators  at  night,  kill  a  few,  among  whom  is  one 
of  the  most  active  in  the  massacre  ;  but  the  leader  escapes. 
The  Captain,  however,  declares  he  shall  die.  But  the  rough- 
ness of  the  country  prevents  pursuit.  Another  means  of 
arresting  him  is  adopted.  The  Indians  are  told  that  they 
shall  never  have  peace  until  they  surrender  this  chief  of  vil- 
lains, and  in  a  few  days  he  is  brought  into  the  mission  of  San 
Xavier  A  court-martial  is  now  called,  and  the  culprit  ar- 
raigned, tried,  and  condemned  to  death  !  The  Padres  inter- 
fere to  save  him.  But  the  Captain  will  not  yield.  The  pri- 
soner confesses  that  he  intended  to  destroy  all  the  converts 
and  the  Padres ;  that  he  has  burnt  the  chapel  and  the  images ; 
that  he  has  had  a  chief  hand  in  the  miu^der  of  Poblano ;  that 
he  has  been  inducing  the  Indian  women  to  marry  the  soldiers, 
in  order  to  have  more  killed  in  the  same  manner ;  and  the 
Captain  will  not  release  him  from  the  punishment  which  he 
deser\'es  for  such  terrible  acts  and  intentions.  All  the  Padres, 
therefore,  gather  at  San  Xavier  to  attend  the  last  hours  of  the 
miserable  man.  They  teach  him  to  look  at  the  fearful  scenes 
which  will  break  on  him  when  the  spirit's  eyes  open  on  eter- 
nity J  exhort  him  to  kiss  the  cross  of  redemption  and  lift  his 
love  to  him  who  bled  upon  it  for  sins  like  his.  He  is  taken 
to  the  plain  in  chains,  blinded,  made  to  kneel  down  an  J  is 
shot !  This  is  the  first  execution  for  a  capital  crime  in  Cali- 
fornia. Its  influence  is  salutary.  The  Indians  become  peace- 
able, and  regular  in  their  duties. 

The  Padres  make  use  of  restored  peace  in  exploring  the 
country  to  fmd  sites  for  new  missions.  The  river  Mulege,  at 
the  north,  is  visited  by  Padres  Piccolo  and  Bassaldua  in  the 
bark  San  Xavier.  They  find  arable  land  on  its  banks,  a 
league  in  width,  which  appears  suitable  for  a  mission  station. 
They  therefore  proceed  to  Senora  to  obtain  riding  animals 
■wherewith  to  explore  the  southern  shore  for  a  land  route  to 
Loretto.  Having  returned,  they  descend  the  coast  a  few 
leagues,  where  a  range  of  dry  volcanic  heights  arrests  their 
progress,  and  compels  them  to  abandon  their  design,  and  re» 


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SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


embark  for  Loretto  in  the  San  Xavier.  On  their  way,  they 
put  into  Concepcion  Bay  which  lies  south  of  the  opposing 
Mountains ;  send  the  bark  to  Guaymas  for  supplies  ;  go  by 
land  along  a  path  partially  cleared  by  the  preceding  expedi- 
tion ;  arrive  fit  a  valley  which  they  call  San  Juan  de  I^ndo, 
where  they  meet  Padre  Salva  Tikrra  ;  and  thence  pro- 
ceed in  great  haste  to  Loretto.  Misfortune  calls  for  their 
sympathy. 

An  ordinance  has  been  issued  by  the  Viceroy  at  Mexico, 
prohibiting  any  one  from  engaging  in  fishing  for,  or  trading 
in,  pearls,  on  the  Californian  coast,without  a  license  from  the 
Government,  countersigned  by  the  military  commandant  at 
Loretto.  The  object  of  this  regulation  is  to  prevent  avari- 
cious individuals  from  drawing  the  Indians  away  from  the 
missions ;  an  evil  which  the  Padres  have  long  endeavored  to 
extirpate.  But  notwithstanding  this  regulation,  two  vessels 
have  come  upon  the  coast  without  license,  and  are  fishing  off 
Loretto,  when  a  tempest  breaks  them  from  their  moorings  and 
strands  them  in  the  bay.  The  crew  of  one  of  them,  seventy 
in  number,  are  saved,  and  fourteen  of  the  other  succeed  in 
gaining  the  shore.  These  eighty  odd  men  the  Padres  clothe 
and  feed  a  whole  month, — the  time  required  to  get  their  ships 
off  and  repair  them, — when  the  one  with  seventy  souls  sails  for 
Mexico.  This  unexpected  draught  upon  the  small  stores  of 
the  missions  bears  so  heavily  upon  them,  th  the  arrival  of 
Padre  Piccolo  from  Senora,  with  the  bark  partiaJly  laden  with 
provisions,  barely  saves  them  from  starvation.  Near  the 
close  of  the  year  the  twelve  survivors  of  the  other  crew  are 
taken  to  the  continent  by  Padre  Minutili,  who  has  been 
appointed  to  the  missions  at  Tibutama.  But  their  presence 
for  so  long  a  time  at  the  garrison  has  greatly  increased  the 
sufferings  of  all  the  stations.  It  is  now  1704,  the  seventh 
year  of  the  religious  conquest  of  California.  It  seems  to  be 
the  last  of  the  missions.  The  Padres  have  labored  inces- 
santly. Many  of  the  natives  have  been  baptized,  and  are 
becoming  accustomed  to  labor.     The  lands  are  somewhat 


T  R  A  V  E  I,  S       f  X       THE       C  A  L  I  F  0  R  N  I  A  S 


179 


productive,  and  the  manufiicture  of  cloth  is  considerably  ad- 
vanced. Their  attendance  on  the  ordinances  of  relij^ion 
f^ratifies  the  Padres,  and  civilisation  seems  to  be  talcing  root 
among  these  savages.  But  as  the  converts  increase,  the  n»im- 
ber  of  persons  to  be  fed  and  clad  are  inidtiplied.  And  as  the 
necessities  of  these  grow,  the  hopes  of  a  proper  supply  be- 
come more  precarious.  The  vessel  in  which  grains  are  to  be 
brought  from  the  opposite  coast  requires  overhauling  before 
she  can  put  to  sea.  Without  her  the  money  for  the  pay- 
ment of  the  garrison  cannot  be  obtained  from  Mexico.  But 
as  the  Padres  have  no  means  of  repairing  her,  Padre  Bassal- 
dua,  for  life  or  death,  sails  in  her  towards  Mexico,  and  Padre 
Piccolo,  with  equal  self-devotion,  embarks  for  Senora  in  the 
leaky  and  shattered  bark  San  Xavier. 

The  mission  of  San  Josef,  on  the  continent,  has  been  an- 
nexed to  the  Californian  missions,  in  order  that  the  Padres 
may  use  its  resources  for  a  uniform  supply  of  provisions  and 
animals.  The  brave  Padre  Piccolo  is  passing  now  between 
this  station  and  Loretto,  with  all  possible  speed  and  activity. 
But  the  little  provisions  he  is  able  to  collect,  ill  suffice  the  wants 
in  California.  And  as  this  little  is  often  spoiled  in  the  leaky 
boat  before  its  arrival,  starvation  is  again  expected  at  Loretto. 
Meantime  Padre  Bassaldua  arrives  on  the  coast  of  Mexico  with 
his  creaking,  leaky  vessel ;  proceeds  to  Guadalaxara  and  Mexi- 
Cf •  urges  th*'  execution  of  the  Royal  Orders  for  the  support 
of  u»e  missions  ;  is  unsucces>ful ;  collects  enough  to  repair  his 
vessel  :  procures  a  small  supply  of  necessaries  from  benevo- 
lent individuals ;  sails  in  company  with  Padre  Pedro  Ugarte, 
who  has  been  appointed  to  fill  the  place  of  Padre  Piccolo, 
and  in  the  latter  part  of  J  me  rounds  into  the  bay  of  Loretto, 
to  add  to  the  number  of  the  desponding  and  starnng !  The 
Padres  send  the  vessel  and  the  bark  to  the  continent  for  pro- 
visions. But  the  shattered  condition  of  these  craft,  and  the 
northwest  gales,  twice  oblige  them  to  |)ut  back  empty.  And 
when  at  last  they  succeed  in  making  the  voyage,  little  reUef 
comes  of  it    There  is  a  want  of  every  necessai/  of  life 


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180 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


among  the  Padres  and  soldiers.  The  latter  complain  that 
their  certificates  of  services  sent  to  Mexico  have  not  been 
honored ;  and  the  former  see  that  some  decided  step  must  be 
taken  either  for  the  salvation  or  abandonment  of  the  missions. 
Padre  Salva  Tierra  calls  together  the  Padres  and  the  Cap- 
tain, and  another  officer  of  the  garrison,  to  deliberate,  and 
informs  them  that  they  can  expect  no  speedy  relief  from 
their  friends  at  Mexico  ;  that  he  cannot  more  clearly  depict 
the  melancholy  condition  of  their  aflFaira  than  their  common 
sufferings  do ;  that  he  is  summoned  to  Mexico  to  confer 
concerning  the  execution  of  the  Royal  Orders  for  the  relief  of 
the  missions ;  but  that  he  will  not  leave  California  until  the  mis- 
sions are  either  relieved  or  destroyed.  He  desires,  however, 
that  others  will  fully  deliberate,  and  freely  determine  whether 
they  shall  all  remain  there,  and  suffer  for  the  glory  of  God,  or 
go  to  Mexico,  and  await  a  more  favorable  juncture  for  renew- 
ing the  conquest.  He  himself  is  ready  to  eat  the  wild  fruits, 
and  in  other  respects  fare  as  the  converts  do,  rather  than 
abandon  them.  Padre  Ugarte  opposes  leaving  the  country. 
Padres  Piccolo,  Pedro  Ugarte  and  Bassaldua  agree  with  him : 
and  the  Captain  declares  that  he  is  astonished  to  hear  a  pro- 
position of  the  kind ;  that  he  will  solemnly  protest  against 
the  Padres,  if  they  should  abandon  the  conquest.  Neverthe- 
less, notice  is  given  to  the  people,  that  whoever  will,  may 
embark  in  the  vessel  going  to  Mexico,  and  that  bills  shall  be 
given  them  for  the  arrears  of  their  wages.  But  instead  of 
embracing  the  offer,  they  all  refuse  to  leave  the  Padres.  The 
fear  of  an  insurrection  among  the  soldiers  on  account  of  the 
non-payment  of  wages  and  want  of  food  being  removed, 
the  Padres  dispatch  the  vessel  and  the  bark  to  Guaymas  for 
supplies.  %Vhile  they  are  waitii  g  for  these.  Padre  Ugarte 
sets  an  example  of  patience  and  fortitude.  He  goes  into  the 
mountains  and  woodlands,  gathers  the  wild  fruits  and  digs 
edible  roots,  reminds  his  spiritual  children  of  the  death  in 
Canaan,  and  God's  goodness  to  Jacob — while  the  soldiers 
and  officers  vie  with  the  good  man  in  all  his  works  of  love. 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CAHF0RNIA8 


181 


The  Padres  do  not  abandon  their  determination  to  found 
the  other  missions,  for  which  funds  ha\re  been  promised. 
With  this  design  in  view,  and  ako  to  bring  new  matters  of 
interest  to  the  minds  of  the  distressed  people.  Padres  Salva 
TiERRA  and  Pedro  Ugarte  vi^lt  the  district  of  Ligui,  lying  on 
the  coast  south  of  Loretto.  A  single  soldier  and  two  Indians 
accompany  them.  As  they  approach  the  village,  many  In- 
dians rush  from  an  ambush  and  begin  to  fire  their  arrows  at 
them  with  great  fury.  The  soldier,  Francisco  Xavier  Va- 
lenzuela,  draws  his  scimitar  and  brandishes  it  briskly  in  the 
sun  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  fires  his  mus- 
ketoon  in  the  air.  These  movements  so  frighten  the  savages 
that  they  throw  their  weapons  and  themselves  on  the  ground, 
and  allow  the  whites  to  approach  them.  The  two  Indians 
interpret  for  Padre  Salva  Tierra.  He  assures  them  that  he 
comes  only  to  do  them  good;  that  he  has  brought  Padre 
Ugarte  to  live  with  them  as  a  father,  who  will  lead  them  to  a 
happy  futurity.  On  hearing  this,  they  affectionately  embrace 
Padre  Salva  Tierra,  and  bid  their  wives  and  children  to 
come  from  their  hiding-places.  The  Indians  are  sad  that  the 
Padres  do  not  remain  longer  with  them,  and  can  only  be 
comforted  by  a  strong  promise  that  Padre  Ugarte  will  soon 
return.  They  baptize  forty-eight  of  the  children,  and  depart 
for  Loretto. 

In  the  month  of  August,  of  this  year,  the  vessel  and  bark 
return  from  Guaymas  with  provisions.  Close  upon  this  haj^y 
event,  follows  another,  which  causes  much  grief  to  the  Padres 
and  the  Indians.  Padre  Salva  Tierra  is  appointed  visitor  to 
the  missions  of  Cinaloa  and  Senora.  The  prospect  of  losing 
the  society  and  fatherly  love  of  this  great  and  good  man, 
causes  deep  sorrow  among  all  ranks.  He  is  also  called  to 
Mexico  by  order  of  the  Viceroy,  to  attend  an  assembly  to 
be  soon  convened  by  command  of  his  Sovereign,  in  which  the 
propriety  and  possibility  of  executing  certain  royal  orders 
concerning  the  conquest  and  settlement  of  California  are  to 
be  discussed.  6efor«  he  departs,  he  consecrates  the  new 
16 


M     t 


1S2 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


church  at  Loretto,  and  appoints  to  the  command  of  the  garri- 
son, Juan  Baptiste  Escalante,  a  distinguished  warrior,  against 
the  Apaches  on  the  Gila,  and  Nicolas  Marques,  as  Lieutenant, 
to  fill  respectively  the  places  of  the  worthy  Captain  Estevan 
Lorenzo  and  Ensign  Isidro,  who,  to  the  sorrow  of  the  Pa- 
dres, have  resigned  their  posts  on  account  of  some  bitter  feel- 
ings towards  them  among  the  soldiers 

These  matters  being  settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties, 
he  appoints  Padre  Juan  Ugarte  to  the  supreme  government  of 
the  garrison  and  missions,  and  on  the  first  of  October  sails  for 
the  continent.  He  goes  to  Guadalaxara,  confers  with  the  Audi- 
encia  of  that  department,  passes  on  to  Mexico,  and  finds  him- 
self appointed  Provincial  of  New  Spain,  and  missionary  of 
California.  The  good  Padre,  overwhelmed  with  this  unex- 
pected distinction,  urges,  with  sincerity  and  zeal,  his  unfitness 
for  the  office,  and  his  desire  to  labor  and  die  a  simple  mis- 
sionary among  his  Cahfornian  Indians.  But  the  Padres  assure 
him  that  the  rules  of  his  order  will  not  permit  him  to  decline  j 
and  persuade  him,  that  under  so  good  a  man  as  Provincial, 
the  church  will  cheerfully  further  his  pious  desires  for  the 
conversion  of  the  Indians  of  California.  The  Padre  Juan 
Maria  de  Salva  Tierra,  therefore,  in  hope  of  bettering  the 
condition  of  his  converts  in  that  forlorn  wilderness,  enters 
upon  the  duties  of  Provinical  Bishop  of  New  Spain. 

Padre  Salva  Tierra  in  his  official  character  communicates 
with  the  Viceroy,  and  lays  before  him  his  views  of  the  proper 
measures  of  his  Government  for  the  furtherance  of  the  mis- 
sionary enterprise  in  the  territories  under  his  charge.  He 
states,  generally,  the  advances  of  the  Spanish  power  in  those 
vast  realms  by  means  of  the  Jesuits,  and  that  in  order  to  hold 
these  conquests,  the  power  by  which  they  have  been  obtained 
must  still  be  exercised.  The  honor  and  benefit  of  the  Crown 
and  of  the  Catholic  Church  demand  this  of  his  Excellency's 
Government.  He  is  favorably  heard,  and  all  classes  of  peo- 
ple second  his  views.  But  the  delay  and  selfishness  which 
have  ever  characterized  the  Spanish  power  in  America  and 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CAL  IFOR  N  IAS, 


183 


elsewhere  press  on  the  track  of  the  good  Padre,  and  he  is 
forced  to  leave  Mexico  on  a  visit  to  the  churcheS*  of  his  Dio- 
cese, without  any  decided  assurances  that  his  views  will  be 
acted  on.  The  poverty  of  the  Crown,  while  half  the  world  is 
digging  gold  and  silver  for  its  coffers,  is  an  additional  cause  of 
this  inaction. 

We  next  find  Padre  Salva  Tierra,  in  1705,  appealing  to 
the  Jesuit  College  and  the  Audiencia  of  Guadalaxara,  to  suc- 
cor the  missions.  Soon  after  this  he  lands  at  El  Mission  del 
Nuestra  Senora  de  Loretto,  amid  the  general  joy  of  the  Pa- 
dres, soldiers  and  Indians.  To  the  latter,  particularly,  he  has 
been  a  father ;  and  they  dance  and  shout  around  him  in  an 
ecstacy  of  gladness  to  see  again  his  grey  head  and  benevo- 
lent face. 

The  Padre  finds  his  brethren  in  great  wretchedness,  but  full 
of  unwavering  determination  to  carry  forward  the  work  which 
he  has  so  valorously  begun.  Padre  Piccolo,  who  has  been  ap- 
pointed visitor  of  the  missions  of  Senora,  in  order  that  he  may 
have  authority  and  opportunity  to  draw  provisions  more  regu- 
larly for  those  of  California,  has  been  forwarding  at  intervals 
whatever  he  could  gather  from  those  poor  establishments. 
But  this  has  been  sufficient  only  to  prevent  starvation  or  the 
abandonment  of  the  country.  However,  the  missions  still 
exist,  and  the  venerable  Padre  Salva  Tiisrra  is  happy.  Their 
discomforts  have  been  much  increased  during  his  absence  by 
the  growing  tyranny  of  Capt.  Escalante,  who  has  become  im- 
patient of  his  subjection  to  the  Padres,  and  abusive  to  the  In- 
dians and  soldiers.  An  account  of  this  state  of  things  having 
been  forwarded  during  the  Padre's  tarry  there,  he  has  brought 
with  him  Don  Estevan  Rodriguez  Lorenzo  to  supersede  Esca- 
lante— an  arrangement  which  results  in  much  satisfaction  to 
the  missions. 

The  Provincial  remains  two  months  in  California ;  but  he 
does  not  excuse  himself  from  his  usual  arduous  labors.  His 
new  dignity  furnishes  no  pretext  for  idleness.  He  bends  all 
his  energies  to  the  well-being  of  the  natives ;  takes  measures 


184 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


for  the  establishment  of  two  new  missions ;  the  one  at  Ligui 
and  the  other  at  the  river  Mulege.  The  small  number  of  his 
associates,  however,  is  an  obstacle  to  the  accomplishment  of 
his  v'ishes.  There  are  but  three  Padres  with  him.  One  of 
these  is  required  at  San  Xavier,  and  one  at  Londo.  This  dis- 
tribution will  leave  but  one  to  take  care  of  the  magazines, 
disburse  the  stores,  nurse  the  sick,  and  perform  the  spiritual 
functions  at  Loretto — a  task  which  no  single  man  can  per- 
form. Accordingly,  Jayme  Bravo,  the  lay  companion  of  Pa- 
dre Salva  TiERRA,  is  induced  to  take  upon  himself  the  tem- 
poral affairs  of  the  garrison  and  mission,  and  thus  leave  the 
Padres  free  to  pursue  their  religious  labors.  This  arrange- 
ment being  made,  the  Provincial  departs  for  Mexico  about  the 
last  of  November,  1704,  and  the  Padres  Pedro  Ugarte  and 
Juan  Manuel  de  Bassaldua  commence  the  exploration  of  the 
new  stations.  The  former  goes  twelve  leagues  south,  to  Li- 
gui, and  the  latter  forty  leagues  north,  to  the  river  Mulege ; 
while  Padre  Juan  Ugarte  takes  care  of  the  missions  at  Loretto 
San  Xavier  and  Londo. 

The  Ligui  Indians  are  found  to  be  peaceable,  but  so  ex- 
tremely indolent  that  the  Padre  can  get  no  help  from  them  in 
the  constmction  of  the  mission  buildings.  His  ingenuity  and 
patience,  however,  are  equal  to  his  necessities.  He  feeds  the 
boys  of  the  tribe  with  sweetmeats,  makes  them  small  presents, 
and  by  his  paternal  address,  soon  attaches  them  so  strongly 
to  his  person,  that  they  follow  him  wherever  he  goes.  He 
resorts  to  many  artifices  to  habituate  them  to  labor ;  lays 
wagers  with  them  on  their  comparative  dexterity  in  pulling 
up  bushes,  removing  the  earth  from  the  sites  of  the  buildings, 
and  challenges  them  to  dance  with  him  on  the  clay  of  which 
the  bricks  are  to  be  made.  The  boys  sing  and  poach  the  mud 
with  their  feet,  and  so  does  the  Padre.  And  in  this  way  he  clears 
his  ground  and  erects  the  buildings  of  his  mission.  He  also 
teaches  these  boys  the  Spanish  language,  and  they  teach  their 
own  to  him.  He  explains  to  them  the  catechism  and  prayers, 
and  they  do  the  same  to  their  parents.    Thus,  with  untiring 


f 


V 

h 
t'l 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      C.VI,  IFORNIAS 


185 


patience,  fir..incss  and  labor,  does  he  bring  the  mission  of  San 
Juan  Baptista  into  form,  and  its  Indians  under  his  control 
And  not  these  only ;  but  going  many  miles  into  the  woods 
and  the  breaches  of  the  mountains,  he  gathers  in  the  wan- 
dering, feeds  and  clothes  them,  and  teaches  them  to  till  the 
ground  and  live  like  men.  At  last  he  succeeds  in  humaniz- 
ing the  greater  portion  of  these  rude  people.  They  call  him 
Padre,  follow  him  to  the  labor  of  the  field,  and  gather  about 
the  altar  in  his  humble  church  to  worship.  All  are  industri- 
ous, well-fed,  well-clad,  and  happy. 

As  the  Padre,  however,  is  felicitating  himself  on  these 
results  of  his  labors,  an  accident  occurs  which  well  nigh  ruins 
all.  He  is  called  to  baptize  a  sick  woman,  with  whom  he 
finds  an  old  sorcerer  employed  according  to  their  ancient  cus- 
toms. The  Padre  bids  him  depart,  administers  extreme  unc- 
tion to  the  woman,  remains  with  her  till  death,  buries  her 
according  to  the  forms  of  the  church,  and  after  reprimanding 
severely  the  converts  who  have  lent  their  sanction  to  the  jug- 
gler, dismisses  them  with  much  indignation.  This  severity  of 
the  Padre  routes  the  sullen  fierceness  of  the  Indians  to  such 
extent  thpt,  instigated  by  the  disgraced  sorcerer,  they  form 
the  design  of  murdering  him.  They  use  the  utmost  secrecy, 
and  make  death  the  penalty  of  divulging  their  purpose.  The 
Padre  always  has  a  boy  sleeping  in  his  apartment ;  and  when 
at  length  the  night  of  the  massacre  comes,  this  boy  desires 
that  he  may  be  allowed  to  spend  it  with  his  friends,  the  Indi- 
ans. The  Padre  objects !  The  boy  urges !  The  Padre  in- 
quires the  reason ;  and  the  boy,  after  much  hesitation,  tells 
him,  "  Because,  father,  this  night  they  are  going  to  kill  you  !" 

On  hearing  this,  he  sends  for  some  of  the  chief  ones,  and 
with  a  resolute  and  dauntless  air  tells  them,  "  I  know  you 
have  formed  the  design  to  kill  me  this  night.  But  remember ! 
With  this  musket  I  will,  when  you  come,  slaughter  you  all." 
Having  said  this,  he  quickly  leaves  them  full  of  consterna- 
tion at  what  they  have  heard. 

Oppressed  with  fear,  they  retire  to  their  associates  in  the 
16* 


r      i 


■  I  ■ 


II 


k- 


I 


186 


SCENES       IN       THE      PACIFIC 


design ;  consult  much,  and  at  last  conclude  to  seek  safety 
from  the  Padre's  musket  in  flight.  In  the  morning  their 
lodges  are  deserted ;  not  an  Indian  is  in  sight  of  the  Mission 
San  Juan  Baptista  Ligui.  On  the  following  day  the  Padre 
goes  out  to  seek  his  lost  flock.  They  are  found  hidden 
away  among  the  cliffs,  and  flee  at  his  approach.  After  con- 
siderable parleying,  however,  they  are  convinced  that  the 
Padre  seeks  their  good  alone,  and  return  to  the  mission  tho- 
roughly persuaded  that  he  loves  them,  but  can  never  be  made 
to  fear  them. 

This  excellent  man  continues  at  his  mission,  enduring  every 
privation,  till  1709,  when  the  severe  fatigues  of  years  weigh 
him  down  and  compel  him  to  seek  health  in  Mexico.  Thither 
he  goes  in  the  character  of  negotiator  and  procurator  of  the 
missions.  No  sooner,  however,  does  he  recover  his  health  in 
a  tolerable  degree,  than  he  returns  and  resumes  his  labors. 
But  illness  again  compels  him  to  leave  this  inhospitable 
shore  for  the  mission  at  the  River  Yaqui,  on  the  opposite 
coast,  where  he  makes  himself  useful  as  an  agent  and  pur- 
veyor-general for  California. 

But  let  us  follow  the  Padre  Juan  Manuel  Bassaldua  to  the 
River  Mulege.  He  starts  in  1705,  and  with  great  difficulty 
surmounts  the  crags  as  far  north  as  Concepcion  Bay.  Here 
his  progress  is  arrested  by  hills  to  all  appearances  in- 
surmountable. But  "trial  before  despair"  is  the  Padre's 
motto.  He  fills  ravines  with  rocks,  and  cuts  away  the  woods; 
and  after  incredible  labor,  passes  his  animals  over  to  Mulege. 

There  is  a  valley  near  the  mouth  of  this  little  stream  ten 
leagues  in  length,  suitable  for  tillage.  In  this,  two  miles  from 
the  Gulf,  he  locates  his  mission,  and  consecrates  it  to  Santa 
Rosalia ;  builds  his  dwelling  and  church  of  adobies ;  remains 
four  years ;  collects  the  Indians  from  all  the  neighboring  set- 
tlements ;  instructs  them  in  religion  and  the  useful  arts ;  and 
so  endears  himself  to  them,  that  when  his  health  fails,  and  he 
is  transferred  to  Guaymas,  the  poor  sav£^ges  find  it  difficult  to 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


187 


111 


discover  in  his  successor,  the  excellent  Padre  Piccolo,  his 
equal  in  kindness  and  active  benevolence.  "* 

Padre  Piccolo  exerts  in  this  new  field  all  his  well-tried  en- 
ergies. Besides  his  labors  as  a  spiritual  teacher,  he  travels 
into  the  interior  several  times  in  search  of  proper  sites  for 
new  settlements,  and  discovers  those  places  which  are  after- 
wards occupied  by  the  missions  of  Guadaloupe,  La  Purissima 
Concepcion,  and  San  Ignacio.  In  the  year  1718  he  surren- 
ders his  charge  to  Padre  Sebastian  de  Sistiaga.  This  Padre 
digs  trenches  to  convey  the  waters  of  the  river  over  the 
fields,  and  in  other  ways  improves  the  facilities  for  training 
those  active  and  intelligent  children  of  the  desert  to  the  habits 
of  a  better  life. 

On  the  sixth  of  November,  1706,  Padre  Piccolo,  three  sol- 
diers, and  some  Mulege  Indians,  with  two  asses  hearing  their 
provisions,  journey  westward  towards  the  country  of  the  North 
Cochimes,  which  is  called  Cada  Kaaman,  or  Sedge  Brook. 
It  lies  on  the  skirts  of  the  mountains,  thirty-five  leagues,  by 
the  vales,  from  Santa  Rosalia.  On  the  third  day  he  is  met 
by  a  whole  settlement  of  Indians,  in  a  valley  which,  on  a 
former  visit,  he  has  named  Santa  Aguida.  These  poor  peo- 
ple express  great  joy  at  seeing  the  Padre  again,  and  follow 
him  to  the  neighboring  rancherias,  called  Santa  Lucia  and 
Santa  Nympha.  In  these  places  also  he  is  greeted  most 
kindly,  and  desired  to  remain.  On  the  nineteenth  of  Novem- 
ber he  arrives  at  the  head  springs  of  the  brook  which  waters 
the  vale.  Here  he  finds  three  considerable  neighborhoods  of 
savages,  who  welcome  his  coming  with  feastings,  dances,  and 
songs,  in  which  those  from  Santa  Lucia  and  Santa  Nympha 
join  with  exceeding  delight.  He  remains  at  this  place  until 
December,  comforting  and  teaching  them.  A  large  arbor  is 
built  by  the  willing  Indians,  in  which  mass  is  celebrated.  The 
neighboring  villagers  forsake  their  homes  to  attend  upon  the 
Padre's  instructions.  Fifty  mothers  eagerly  offer  their  child- 
ren in  baptism.  And  now  he  departs,  followed  by  a  large 
crowd  of  people,  who  mourn  that  he  leaves  them  j  and  pre- 


188 


SCENES      IX       THE       PA  CI  TIC. 


ceded  by  others  who  shout  their  gladness  amonj^  tlie  parched 
hills,  that  he  journeys  towards  their  villages.  They  clear  the 
path  before  him  of  stones  and  other  obstacles ;  present  him 
with  strings  of  wild  fruit  to  eat  j  and  bring  him  water  from 
the  stream  to  drink. 

While  these  new  missions  are  in  progress,  the  old  ones,  at 
Loretto,  San  Xavier,  and  Londo,  are  slowly  advancing  in  com- 
fort and  usefulness.  Nor  are  the  Padres  in  charge  of  them 
idle  in  making  explorations  for  other  establishments. 

In  1706  Jayme  Bravo,  in  company  with  the  Captain,  seven 
soldiers,  and  some  Indians,  goes  to  San  Juan  Baptista  Ligui, 
and  having  felicitated  Padre  Pedro  Ugarte  upon  the  happy 
beginning  of  his  mission,  passes  along  the  shore  towards  the 
south.  He  has  travelled  a  day  and  a  half,  when  an  Indian 
brings  word  that  four  of  his  soldiers  are  dying !  Jayme  Bravo 
and  the  Captain  return,  and  find  that  one  of  them  has  found 
a  fire  where  some  Indian  fishermen  have  been  roasting  a  spe- 
cies of  fish  called  Botates,  the  liver  of  which  contains  a  very 
active  poison.  This  soldier  communicates  the  news  of  food 
at  hand  to  his  fellows,  and  they  hasten  to  devour  it.  A 
friendly  Indian  warns  them  not  to  eat.  But  the  soldier  who 
first  discovered  the  fire  replying,  "  None  of  your  noise,  Indian  ; 
a  Spaniard  never  dies,"  eats  plentifully  and  gives  to  his  com- 
panions. One  of  them  chews  and  swallows  a  little ;  another 
chews,  but  does  not  swallow  ;  the  other  merely  handles  and 
views  the  fish.  Well  would  it  have  been  if  they  had  regarded 
the  caution  of  the  Indian :  for  in  a  very  short  time  they  are 
all  seized  with  convulsive  pains  more  or  less  violent,  accord- 
ing to  the  use  they  have  made  of  the  fish.  The  first  expires 
in  half  an  hour.  He  is  soon  followed  by  the  second !  The 
third,  who  merely  chewed  the  fish,  remains  insensible  till  the 
following  morning !  The  man  who  only  handled  them  is 
in  a  very  bad  condition  for  several  days.  This  misfortune 
obliges  the  explorers  to  abandon  their  enteiprise.  They  re- 
turn to  Ligui  to  bury  the  dead  in  the  consecrated  grounds  of 
the  mission,  and  send  their  sick  to  Loretto. 


I 

4 


•  ) 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Padre  Juan  Ugarte  and  Jayme  Bravo  explore  the  Pacific  Coast— Dearth 
— Thirst — PADnG  SAr.vA  Tierua— A  Tempest — Landing  at  Loretto — 
San  Josef— Wrecked— Padre  Salva  Tierra  goes  to  the  Rescue — Eln- 
ergy — Suffering — Die  by  Thousands! — Wrecked — At  Sea  in  a  Long- 
boat— The  Limit  of  Despair — Tliey  toil  on — The  Guaycuros— Massa- 
cre—San  Ignacio— Padre  Salva  Tiebra  leaves  California — Death  of  a 
Hero  at  Guadalaxara. 

Meantime  Padre  Juan  Ugarte  prepares  to  reconnoitre  the 
coast  of  the  Pacific.  The  chief  of  the  Yaqui  nation  waits  on 
him  with  forty  of  his  warriors.  The  Captain,  with  twelve  sol- 
diers and  some  converts,  is  at  his  command  for  the  same  duty ; 
the  beasts  and  provisions  for  the  journey  are  ready ;  and  Padre 
Juan  Ugarte  and  the  layman  Bravo,  on  the  twenty-sixth  of 
November,  1706,  leave  Loretto,  with  their  troops  and  pack 
animals  dividetl  into  three  companies,  on  their  wearisome  way 
over  the  western  mountains.  Their  march  lies  through  the 
Mission  of  San  Xavier  and  the  Indian  village  called  Santa 
Rosalia,  and  from  that  point  passes  over  the  dry  and  herb- 
less  waste  of  heights  and  vales  to  the  sea.  Here  they  meet 
several  hundred  Guaycuros,  who  are  friendly  to  them.  Thence 
they  march  southward  many  leagues,  and  find  no  water  in  all 
the  distance  except  in  little  wells  dug  by  the  Indians.  They 
then  turn  their  course  to  the  north.  They  march  all  day  over 
burning  sands,  famishing  with  thirst,  and  halt  at  night  near  the 
channel  of  a  dry  rivulet.  Thence  they  send  men  a  few  leagues 
farther  up  the  shore,  and  others  up  and  down  the  thirsty 
channel,  in  quest  of  water.  They  all  return  to  camp  with- 
out success.  Next  they  disperse  themselves  in  every  direc- 
tion to  find  a  plat  of  low  ground  where  they  may  dig  wells, 
but  find  none.    As  a  last  resource,  they  now  let  loose  their 


190 


SCENES      IN       T  11  K       P  A  C  I  I'  I  C 


animals,  that  they  may,  by  their  powerful  instincts,  find  means 
of  quenching  their  thirst  j  but  all  these  contrivances  are  vain. 
They  kindle  a  fire  to  keep  themselves  warm,  and,  weary  and 
faniishing,  stretch  themselves  on  the  sand  for  the  night. 

In  the  morning  Patlre  Ugarte  greets  the  rising  sun  with  the 
services  of  Mass  ;  and  while  they  sing  the  "  Litany  de  Seno- 
ra  de  Loretto,"  an  Indian  calls  out  in  the  language  of  his 
people  that  he  has  found  water  !  With  solemn  gratitude  they 
dig  into  the  oozing  soil ;  they  obtain  a  supply  for  themselves 
and  their  animals ;  and  having  filled  several  vessels  to  serve 
them  on  their  return,  offer  a  service  of  thanksgiving  to  the 
Virgin,  and  commence  their    journey    to  Loretto. 

While  the  Padres  are  thus  employed  in  establishing  mis- 
sions and  exploring  California,  Padue  Salva  Tierra  is  ear- 
nestly petitioning  the  Pope  to  discharge  him  from  the  office  of 
Provincial  Bishop  of  New  Spain.  He  desires  to  spend  his 
declining  years  among  the  Indians  of  California.  In  1706 
his  discharge  comes ;  and  with  inexpressible  pleasure  does 
the  good  old  man  collect  supplies  of  clothing,  provisions 
and  ammunition,  for  the  mission.  He  is  joined  by  two  other 
Padres,  Julian  de  Mayorga  and  Rolandegui.  To  their 
care  he  commits  the  stores,  with  directions  to  repair  to  the  har- 
bor of  Matanchel  and  await  the  arrival  of  the  bark  which  is 
to  take  them  to  the  peninsula.  The  Padre  himself  goes  by 
land  four  hundred  leagues  along  the  coast  to  the  harbor  of 
Akomi  in  Senora,  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  free  contribu- 
tions from  the  missions  in  the  regions  through  which  he  jour- 
neys. 

About  the  first  of  January  he  sails  for  Loretto.  He  has  a 
long  tempestuous  voyage.  "This  night,"  says  he,  "the 
thirty-first  of  January,  was  extremely  dark.  We  were  with 
the  mast  lashed,  and  without  a  rudder ;  and  amidst  rocks  and 
islands ;  the  sea  continually  making  a  free  passage  over  us ; 
the  sailors  spent  with  toil  and  hunger,  having  been  without 
food  for  a  day  and  a  half,  were  prostrate,  giving  up  all  for 
lost.    The  least  damage  we  could  expect  was  to  be  driven 


ml 


j>:^S 


) 


T  R  A  V  i:  I,  S      IN      THE      C  A  L  t  F  0  R  N  I  A  S 


191 


into  the  sou  of  Gallicia  or  Acapulco.  *  Tnstisnma  noctis 
imagoJ*  The  Californians  got  about  me  like  chickens,  and 
they  were  not  my  least  confulants,  as  being  new-born  sons  of 
the  Great  Madonna,  and  had  run  this  risk  in  her  service.  Af- 
ter all  my  journeyings  and  voyages,  I  never  knew  what  dan- 
gers or  distresses  by  land  or  sea  were,  until  now."  They  are 
driven  by  this  horrible  tempest  into  the  bay  of  San  Josef,  thirty 
miles  south  of  Loretto.  On  the  third  of  February,  the  storm 
abating,  they  run  up  to  tlie  desired  haven,  and  are  received 
with  universal  gladness. 

In  1708,  Padres  Salva  Tierra  and  Juan  Ugarte  go  with 
Padre  Mayorga  into  the  midst  of  the  mountains  to  an  Indian 
settlement  called  Comondu,  and  invest  him  \olh  a  mission 
there  under  the  name  of  San  Josef;  and  after  having  aided 
him  in  gathering  the  Indians,  building  a  chapel,  and  some 
bough  huts,  they  return  to  Loretto.  Padre  Mayorga  forms 
some  neighboring  Indians  into  two  towns  which  he  calls  San 
Juan  and  San  Ignacio ;  builds  a  fine  church  at  the  former 
place  J  opens  a  school  for  boys  at  his  own  house ;  erects  a 
seminary  for  girls ;  builds  a  hospital  for  the  sick ;  prepares 
maize  fields  at  San  Josef,  and  plants  vineyards  at  San  Juan 
and  San  Ignacio. 

Many  other  fertile  spots  are  discovered  among  the  deserts 
of  California,  soon  after  Salva  Tierra's  arrival,  suitable  for 
the  establishment  of  missions.  But  misfortunes  by  sea  and 
land  retard  their  occupancy.  The  following  is  an  instance  of 
this  kind.  The  bark  San  Xavier  sails  from  Loretto  in  August, 
1709,  with  $3,000  in  specie,  to  purchase  a  supply  of  pro- 
visions in  Senora.  A  storm  of  three  days'  continuance  drives 
it  on  a  barren  coast,  north  of  Guaymas,  where  it  is  stranded 
among  the  sands  and  rocks.  Some  are  drowned ;  others  save 
themselves  in  the  boat.  Hostile  Indians,  called  Seris  and 
Tepocas,  fall  upon  those  who  escape  and  drive  them  to  sea  in 
the  open  boat ;  dig  up  the  $3,000  which  they  have  hidden  in 
the  sands ;  take  the  helm  from  the  bark,  and  partly  break  it 
in  pieces  for  the  nails.    The  crew  in  the  boat  encounter  very 


I 


192 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


many  clangers  in  their  perilous  voyage  to  the  south.  Storms 
overtake  them.  Their  boat  becomes  leaky.  They  have  no 
water.  They  ^ive,  however,  to  reach  the  river  Yaqui,  sixty 
leagues  from  the  wreck.  From  this  place  a  pearl-fisher's 
bark  is  sent  to  Loretto  with  an  account  of  these  disasters : 
Padre  Salva  Tierra  hastens  over  in  the  Rosalia  to  Guaymas ; 
sends  her  to  a  port  near  the  scene  of  the  shipwreck ;  dis- 
patches the  bark  San  Xavier  to  the  vessel,  while  he  himself, 
attended  by  fourteen  Yaqui  Indians,  passes  up  the  rugged 
coast  by  land  j  is  two  days  without  a  drop  of  water ;  and  at 
last  arrives  at  the  wreck.  The  San  Xavier's  men  are  merely 
sustaining  life  on  boiled  herbs.  He  sends  to  the  nearest  mis- 
sion for  food  by  an  Indian,  who  succeeds  in  passing  through 
the  hostile  Seris  and  Tepocas,  with  a  small  supply.  This 
does  not  suffice.  Death  is  near  them,  when  the  indefatigable 
Padre  determines  to  journey  through  bands  of  mwderous  sav- 
ages to  the  harbor  of  San  Juan  Baptista  for  help ! 

He  has  not  travelled  far  along  the  coast  when  he  arrives  at 
a  settlement  of  Indians,  who  come  out  against  him  under  arms. 
They  are  led  by  an  old  man,  who  urges  them  on  with  terrible 
vociferations.  Nothing  less  fearful  than  death  seems  promised 
in  their  present  situation.  But  the  Padre,  with  his  usual  in- 
trepidity, advancing  alone  towards  them,  makes  some  small 
presents  to  the  old  man  and  his  son,  which,  accompanied  by 
signs  and  kind  gestures,  soften  their  ferocity  a  little,  vhen  to 
their  surprise  and  joy  they  hear  the  guns  of  the  Rosalia  !  The 
explosion  of  these  cannon  is  new  to  the  Indians— they 
think  it  the  voice  of  avenging  gods — they  immediately  run 
away  and  bring  to  the  Padue  food,  and  $3,000  which  had 
been  taken  from  its  place  near  the  wreck.  The  Padre  thus 
imexpectedly  recovers  his  lost  money,  and  the  means  of  con- 
tinuing the  lives  of  himself  and  men. 

The  Rosalia  anchors  near  the  disabled  San  Xavier ;  and 
the  provisions  on  board  for  a  time  relieve  the  distressed  work- 
men, seamen  and  Padres.  But  as  two  months  are  consumed 
in  refitting  the  wreck,  they  are  again  often  in  want.    The 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


193 


!l 


missions  of  the  region  afford  them  occasional  aid ;  but  the 
dearth  which  has  pervaded  the  country  during  thiryear,  so  far 
disables  these  establishments  from  furnishing  adequate  supplies, 
that  Padre  Salva  Tierra  sends  a  messenger  to  the  distant 
mission  garrison,  ninety  miles  up  the  country,  called  Nuestra 
Sennora  do  Gaudalupe,  begging  the  Captain  Don  Francisco 
Xavier  Valenzuela  to  send  them  food.  This  excellent  man 
immediately  despatches  what  succors  he  can  command ;  and 
soon  aftei*  comes  in  person  with  some  of  his  men  and  a  more 
liberal  supply. 

When  he  arrives,  such  is  the  distressed  condition  of  the 
Padre  and  those  with  him,  that  this  commander  and  his  vete- 
rans seat  themselves  on  the  beach  and  weep.  After  a  con- 
tinual repetition  of  trials  like  these,  during  two  sultry  months, 
the  San  Xavier  is  afloat,  and  the  brave  Padre  sails  his  vessel 
to  the  Californian  coast ;  visits  the  Padre  Piccolo  at  Santa 
Rosalia  Mjpfge,  a^  encouraging  that  lonely  priest  in  the 
prosecutioPof  his  Iroly  labors,  diops  down  to  Loretto.  Soon 
after  his  arrival  the  small  pox,  that  exterminator  of  the  In- 
dian race,  sweeps  away  the  greater  part  of  the  children  and 
many  adults,  in  all  the  missions.  The  garrison  also  suffers 
very  much  from  irregularity  of  diet  consequent  upon  the  pre- 
carious means  of  supply,  and  the  necessity  of  living  in  that 
sultry  climate,  on  salt  meat  and  maize.  All  these  sicknesses 
and  deaths  the  Indians  attribute  to  the  Padres.  Their  children, 
say  they,  are  killed  by  baptism ;  the  adults  with  the  extreme 
imction  ;  and  the  soldiers  are  made  sick  by  continual  expo- 
siu-e  to  the  malign  influence  of  prayers,  masses  and  the  exalt- 
ation of  the  Host.  These  suggestions  are  raised  by  their  old 
sorcerers,  and  threaten  to  embitter  the  Indians  fatally  against 
the  Padres.  But  the  neophytes  stand  by  their  Priests,  and 
convince  their  countrymen  of  their  error. 

From  1709  to  1711,  a  famine  spreads  over  the  entire  Mexi- 
can Territories,  and  California  consequently  obtains  no  sup- 
plies from  that  source.    The  distress  of  these  years  is  so  ex- 
ceedingly great,  that  the  Indian  neophytes  betake  themselves 
17 


I 


^k 


194 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


to  the  mountains,  and  live  on  roots  and  "wild  fruits ;  while  the 
soldiers  of  the  garrison  eat  herbs  with  the  self-denying  Padres : 
and  to  complete  the  misfortunes  of  this  devoted  country,  two 
barks  used  in  bringing  a  little  food  from  Senora,  are  cast 
away. 

In  1711,  Padre  Salva  Tierra  sends  Padre  Francisco  Peralta, 
who  arrived  in  California  two  years  before,  to  Matauchel  to 
repair  the  old  Rosario.    But  the  frauds  practised  by  the  work- 
men consume  many  thousands  of  dollars,  and  make  the  bark 
so  miserable  a  thing,  that  in  its  first  effort  at  sailing  it  runs 
ashore  in  spite  of  the  helm,  and  is  utterly  lost.     They  now 
build  a  new  one,  at  an  expense  of  $22,000.     In  this,  then, 
laden  with  supplies,  they  put  to  sea.     But  a  storm  rising,  the 
ill-built  craft  proves  to  be  unmanageable,  the  sport  of  the 
waves  and  winds.     She  is  driven  to  Cape  San  Lucas  and 
back  again  to  the  isles  of  Mazatlan.    Here  some  of  the  sailors 
forsake  her;  others  remain  onboard,  ai^  after  a^|iiy  difficul- 
ties, take  her  in  sight  of  the  coast  of  Loretto.     A  storm  now 
drives  her  ashore  on  the  opposite  coast.     It  is  the  eighth  of 
December.    The  night  is  terribly  dark  and  tempestuous. 
Four  seamen  clear  away  the  small  boat,  and  regardless  of  the 
lives  of  the  others,  shove  off.     Those  who  are  left  hang  to 
the  main  and  mizen  masts  surging  in  the  seas !    Padre  Bensto 
Guisi    and  six  seamen  are  drowned.     Padres  Guillen  and 
Doye,  and  twenty  others,  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  un- 
lash  the  long-boat,  bail  out  the  water  with  two  calabashes, 
and  throwing  aboard  a  piece  of  an  old  sail  and  some  bits  of 
boards  for  oars,  commit  themselves  to  the  mercy  of  the  waves. 
In  the  morning  they  find  themselves  several  leagues  from  land. 
They  row  down  the  coast  a  day  and  a  half,  and  after  a  bois- 
terous night  land  three  hundred  miles  south  of  Guaymas. 
Eighteen  persons,  naked,  wet,  pierced  with  cold,  exhausted 
with  rowing,  withoilt  food  or  water,  with  the  single  comfort 
of  having  escaped  death  in  the  sea,  land  on  a  barren  waste 
interspersed  with  fertile  tracts  overrun  with  briars  and  bram- 
bles.     They  gather  oysters,  wilks  and  herbs  to  eat,  and 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


195 


march  into  the  interior  to  find  inhabitants.  As  they  break 
their  way,  the  brambles  and  briars  lacerate  theiwaaked  bodies. 
Two  days  of  agony  from  this  cause  and  from  hunger  and 
thirst,  bring  them  into  an  open  plain,  where  they  are  found  by 
Indians.  These  they  induce  to  give  information  of  their  pre- 
sence and  sufferings,  to  the  commander  of  the  town  Tamasula, 
who  visits  them  with  horses,  water  and  maize  cakes,  for  their 
relief. 

From  this  town  they  go  to  Guazave,  the  nearest  mission  in 
Cinaloa,  where  they  fortunately  find  Padre  Francisco  Maza- 
regos.  This  Jesuit  Missionary  entertains  them  in  the  most 
liberal  manner.  The  briars  of  the  rugged  path  over  which 
they  travelled,  have  torn  their  clothing  from  their  backs; 
and  this  holy  man  calls  upon  his  Indian  converts  to  contribute 
of  their  means,  while  he  himself  bestows  his  own  wardrobe, 
to  clothe  the  naked  sufferers. 

Having  been  refreshed  by  rest  and  food,  and  once  more 
clad,  they  leave  the  hospitable  Padre  of  Guazave  for  the  town 
of  Cinaloa.  Here  also  they  are  generously  entertained  by 
Padre  Juan  Yrazoqui,  until  each  departs  to  his  appointed  sta- 
tion. Padre  Guillen  is  roused  instead  of  discouraged,  by 
these  hardships.  Like  all  those  great  spirits  who  are  sowing 
the  gospel  on  the  deserts  of  California,  his  sinews  become  the 
stronger  as  they  are  worn  by  hardship.  He  travels  over  the 
deserts  to  the  missions  at  Yaqui,  and  in  the  month  of  January, 
1714,  sails  to  California  in  the  good  old  San  Xavier. 

The  missions  are  again  entirely  dependent  upon  this  bark 
for  the  transport  of  supplies;  the  loss  in  New  Rosario,  of 
the  commodities  and  clothing,  on  which  the  Padres,  seamen, 
and  soldiers  depend  to  sustain  life,  no  money  left,  no  clothing, 
no  food,  the  only  sea-craft  in  their  possession  unseaworthy, 
and  no  means  of  repairing  her,  on  a  desert  land  and  among 
hostile  Indians  kept  in  subjection  chiefly  by  the  supply  of 
their  physical  v/ants,  now  im^  jssible  to  be  done,  are  the  dis- 
couraging circumstances  which  weigh  on  the  heavy  hearts  of 
the  Padres.     But  who  shall  set  bounds  to  the  power  of  moral 


I- 


I 


196 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


motive,  when  linked  with  zeal  drawn  from  faith  in  God  1 
These  Padres  look  for  death,  but  they  desire  to  die,  sickle  in 
hand,  reaping  the  harvests  of  redemption!  They  toil  onj 
they  gather  wandering  Indians  into  towns;  instruct  them, 
thirsting  and  starving  a  part  of  each  day,  and  spending  the 
remainder  among  the  mountains  and  forests,  gathering  here 
and  there  a  dried  root,  or  a  bunch  of  wild  fruit,  to  eat. 

Padre  Ugarte  is  even  not  content  with  these  labors,  but 
makes  exploring  tours  among  the  Indian  settlements  south  of 
San  Xavier.  Wherever  he  goes  they  throng  his  way,  ask  for 
the  baptism  of  their  children  and  the  establishment  of  missions 
among  them.  It  is  1712,  and  Padre  Piccolo,  though  in  bad 
health,  imitates  the  zeal  of  Padre  Ugarte.  With  the  Captain, 
a  few  soldiers  and  Indians,  he  travels  westward  from  Santa 
Kosalia  Mulege,  crosses  the  mountains  of  Vajademin,  finds 
beyond  them  a  small  clear  brook ;  follows  it  to  the  sea,  ex- 
amines the  barren  coast  about  its  mouth,  ascends  a  little 
stream  about  twenty  miles  j  erects  a  cross  and  devotes  the 
neighboring  grounds  to  a  contemplated  mission.  W^hile  he 
remains  here  many  hundred  Indians  come  in  from  the  neigh- 
boring settlements,  beseeching  the  Padre  to  remain  with  them, 
and  as  an  inducement  to  do  so,  promise  to  give  him  their  best 
wild  fruits  and  feathers,  and  devote  their  children  to  the 
Catholic  faith.  He  agrees  to  send  them  a  Padre  to  instruct 
them  more  fully  in  religion,  and  returns  to  his  station. 

The  vessels  used  by  the  people  of  the  opposite  coast  in 
fishing  for  pearls  bring  a  scanty  supply  of  provisions.  The 
Padre  and  people  clothe  themselves  in  the  skins  of  wild 
beasts,  and  continue  their  labors.  In  the  year  1716,  Padre 
Salva  Tiekra  sails  south  in  a  brigantine  called  Guadalupe, 
to  la  Paz, in  order  to  make  peace  with  the  Guaycuros,  who 
still  retain  an  unfavorable  remembrance  of  Admiral  Otondo's 
ill-advised  conduct,  and  the  constantly  repeated  injuries  of  the 
pearl  fishermen.  He  is  accompanied  by  three  Guaycuri 
prisoners  taken  from  the  pearl  fishers,  whom  he  is  carry- 
ing back  to  their  homes. 


I  I  J 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      C  A  L  I  F  0  K  N  I  A  S 


197 


A ) 


When  he  enters  La  Paz  bay  the  Loretto  Indians  leap  over- 
board and  swim  ashore ;  the  Padre,  Captain  and  soldiers  fol- 
low hastily  in  their  boats ;  but  do  not  arriVe  in  time  to 
prevent  the  Loretto  tribe  from  such  warlike  demonstrations  as 
put  the  Guaycuros  to  flight.  They  flee,  leaving  their  wives 
and  children  to  follow  after  at  a  slower  pace.  The  Loretto 
Indians  do  not  regard  the  orders  of  Padke  Salva  Tieera  ; 
Ijut  led  by  savage  impulse,  fall  upon  the  hapless  women  and 
children.  These  attempt  to  defend  themselves  with  stones. 
But  they  must  have  perished  had  not  the  Captain  and  the 
nimblest  of  the  soldiers  arrived  at  the  commencement  of  the 
infamous  encounter.  The  unoffending  creatures  are  saved ; 
and  wailing  horribly,  follow  their  cowardly  fathers  and  hus- 
bands. 

This  unfortunate  event  tries  exceedingly  the  good  Padre 
Salva  Tierra.  He  sorrows  that  his  benevolent  designs  should 
terminate  in  an  outrage  upon  those  whom  he  comes  to  cherish. 
But  it  is  apparent  that  this  rashness  of  the  Loretto  Indians 
renders  useless  any  attempts  at  friendly  connections  with  the 
Guaycuros.  He  therefore  distributes  to  the  prisoners  from 
the  pearlfishers'  vessels,  some  agreeable  presents,  explains  to 
them,  that  his  object  in  visiting  their  countrymen  was  to  re- 
store themselves  to  their  homes,  and  enter  into  friendly  rela- 
tions with  the  Guaycm-os  nation,  and  dismisses  them  with 
such  other  marks  of  his  good  intentions  as  will  open  a  proba- 
bility of  successful  negotiation  with  their  countrymen  on 
another  occasion.  He  returns  to  Loretto  with  a  heavy  heart : 
and  sends  the  brigantine  to  Matanchel  for  goods  and  pro- 
visions. A  furious  storm  strands  it ;  the  vessel  and  cargo  are 
a  total  loss;  and  nine  persons  are  drowned.  Thus  death 
again  thins  the  ranks  of  the  Californian  missions ;  want  and 
nakedness  stalk  among  them ;  and  the  old  San  Xavier,  after 
eighteen  years'  service,  is  the  only  sea  craft  connecting  them 
with  the  continent  and  with  life.  Amidst  all  these  difficulties, 
however,  the  untiring  Padres  found  the  mission  of  San  Igna- 
cio  in  the  Cada  Kaaman,  or  the  vale  of  the  Sedge  Brook. 

17* 


198 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


It  is  now  eighteen  years  since  Padre  Salva  Tierra  landed 
in  California  and  erected  the  cross  at  Loretto.  His  labors 
have  been  arduous  and  unremitted.  His  trials  by  shipwreck 
and  tempests,  by  progresses  over  mountains  and  deserts,  by 
hunger  and  thirst,  by  arrows  and  Indian  knives,  by  endu- 
rances of  all  kinds,  have  whitened  his  hair,  withered  his 
bones  and  muscles,  made  his  steps  unstable  and  his  head 
tremble  at  the  throbs  of  his  heart.  He  feels  that  the  holy 
water  must  soon  fall  on  his  coffin  lid,  and  California  be  de- 
prived of  his  services.  It  is  the  year  1717.  He  is  at  Loretto, 
with  little  to  eat,  and  badly  clad,  and  scarcely  able  to  walk 
or  stand.  But  he  teaches  the  children — exhorts  the  adults  to 
the  service  of  God,  and  superintends  every  particular  move- 
ment of  the  garrison  and  the  mission.  In  March,  Padre 
Nicholas  Tamaral,  appointed  to  the  proposed  mission  of  La 
Purissima,  arrives  at  Loretto,  bringing  letters  from  the  reign- 
ing Viceroy  of  Mexico,  in  which  among  other  matters  it  is 
stated  that  the  King  has  forwarded  important  instructions  rela- 
tive to  advancing  most  efficiently  the  spiritual  conquest  of 
California,  together  with  a  summons  that  Padre  Salva  Tiebra 
shall  immediately  repair  to  Mexico  to  aid  in  devising  the  best 
means  of  effecting  that  object.  Disease,  pain,  want  and 
danger  present  no  obstacles  to  this  aged  Patriarch,  when  the 
interest  of  his  missions  calls  upon  him  for  action.  He  im- 
mediately determines  to  go  to  Mexico.  Accordingly  the 
government  of  California  is  committed  to  the  wisdom  of  Padre 
Ugarte,  and  on  the  31st  of  the  same  month  of  March,  the 
good  Padre  and  Jayme  Bravo  sail  for  Matanchel. 

Nine  days'  passage  brings  them  to  the  desired  port ;  they 
take  mules  for  Tepic ;  the  good  Padre  suffers  greatly  at 
every  misstep  of  his  animal;  they  arrive  at  Tepic;  the  Pa- 
dre is  in  extreme  torture ;  but  tortures  cannot  deter  him  from 
his  holy  labors ;  he  is  too  weak  and  ^oo  much  racked  with 
pain  to  mount  a  horse  or  mule,  and  is  therefore  borne  in  a 
litter  on  the  shoulders  of  Indians,  to  Guadalaxara.  Here  his 
illness  increases  so  that  he  can  proceed  no  farther.    He  is 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


199 


lodged  in  the  college  of  Jesuits.  The  Padres  are  in  attend- 
ance upon  him.  Two  months  of  agony  wear  toward  a  close ; 
and  death  begins  to  chill  his  limbs,  glaze  his  eyes,  and  chain 
his  utterance  :  and  when  he  can  no  longer  stir,  he  calls  to  him 
his  faithful  companion,  Jayme  Bravo,  and  in  the  most  earnest 
manner,  giving  him  instruction  and  powers  for  acting  in  his 
stead  at  Mexico,  commends  him  and  his  beloved  missions  to 
the  guardianship  of  Heaven.  And  now  a  hero  dies !  Not 
one  who  has  swung  the  brand  of  war  over  the  villages  and 
cities  of  nations ;  not  one  who  hai?  crushed  the  hearts  of 
men,  yoked  them  in  bondage,  and  severed  every  tendril  of 
mercy  and  justice  from  the  governing  powers ;  not  such  a 
hero  as  men  will  worship;  but  a  great  and  good  man, 
offering  life  and  every  capacity  of  happiness  within  him 
to  the  well-being  of  savages  in  a  barren  waste  of  mountains ; 
a  hero  in  the  heavenly  armor  of  righteousness,  endur- 
ing fatigue,  hunger,  thirst,  and  constant  danger  among  the 
flinty,  unwatered  wastes  of  unthinking  and  uninstructed  hu- 
man nature ;  a  missionary  of  a  Californian  wilderness ! 
All  the  people  of  the  city  and  neighboring  villages  crowd  to 
the  college,  and  kneel  through  the  streets  and  alleys,  on  the 
balconies  and  roofs  of  the  houses,  and  pray  for  the  repose  of 
the  departed  soul  of  Padre  Salva  Tiekra.  There  is  no  noise 
in  Guadalaxara,  nor  business ;  it  is  a  city  of  prayer :  they 
come  one  after  another  and  kneel  and  pray,  and  silently 
retire ;  thirty  thousands  of  people  beseech  Heaven  with  one 
earnest  desire — that  he  whom  they  have  loved,  he  who  has 
labored  so  ardently  in  propagating  the  faith,  may  find  a  man- 
sion of  repose  and  reward  in  the  upper  world  !  Some  Cali- 
fornian Indians,  whom  he  has  brought  with  him,  exhibit 
extraordinary  grief;  the  whole  city  assists  at  the  interment; 
they  bury  him  in  the  chapel  he  has  erected  many  years  ago 
to  the  Virgin  of  Loretto.  And  thus  end  the  mortal  part  and 
mortal  deeds  of  Padre  Salva  Tierra.  But  his  remembrance 
is  written  in  the  imperishable  record  of  those  great  minds 


i'l 


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SCENES       IN       THE      PACIFIC 


who  have  conquered  nations  with  the  sabre  of  truth,  and  led 
them  to  a  more  intelligent  and  happy  condition. 

Jayme  Bravo,  after  the  burial  of  Padre  Salva  Tierra,  pro- 
ceeds to  Mexico,  lays  the  condition  of  the  Californian  mis- 
sions before  the  Vice-Royal  Council,  obtains  an  appropriation 
of  four  thousand  dollars  for  the  building  and  equipment  of  a 
vessel  for  the  mission  service,  three  thousand  and  twenty-two 
dollars  for  discharging  the  debts  due  at  the  death  of  Padre 
Salva  Tierra,  and  eighteen  thousand  two  hundred  and 
seventy-five  dollars  for  the  pay  of  the  soldiers  and  sailors. 
While  these  things  are  transpiring  in  Mexico,  a  terrible  hur- 
ricane, accompanied  by  violent  rains,  sweeps  over  California. 
Padre  Ugarte's  house,  and  the  church  at  Loretto,  are  levelled 
to  the  ground ;  and  the  Padre  himself  stands  by  the  side  of  a 
rock  exposed  to  the  tempest  for  twenty-four  hours.  At  San 
Xavier,  the  channels  used  for  irrigating  the  lands  are  filled 
with  stones,  and  the  water  thrown  in  torrents  over  the  fields. 
Both  soil  and  sprouting  crops  are  carried  away.  The 
same  misfortune  occurs  at  Mulege.  The  blasts  of  the  tem- 
pests are  so  terrific  at  the  garrison,  that  a  Spanish  boy  named 
Matheo,  is  taken  up  in  one  of  their  gyrations  and  never  seen 
more !  Tornadoes  of  this  kind  are  frequent  in  California. 
But  the  Padres  have  seen  none  equal  to  this  for  violence  and 
continuance.  What  little  soil  has  been  found  in  the  country 
has  been  dislodged  and  swept  into  the  sea  j  the  country 
is  laid  waste ;  its  rocks  are  bare  j  its  plains  and  vales  are  cov- 
ered with  heaps  of  stones. 


\  • 


\l^ 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Padre  Bravo  in  Mexico— Return  to  California — First  ship  built  in  North- 
west America — Expedition  to  the  Guaycuros— Nuestra  Sennora  del 
Pilar  de  la  Paz— Founding  Nuestra  Sennora  de  Gaudalupe— Burning 
of  Idols— A  Famine — Locusts — A  Pestilence — The  Dying— Explo- 
rations by  Land  and  Sea — Indian  Country — Dreadful  Sufferings — 
Tempests— Water-Spouts — Return  of  the  Explorers. 

Thus  stands  the  condition  of  the  Califomian  missions  in  1711. 
More  than  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  of  private  benefac- 
tions have  been  expended  upon  them ;  and  the  twenty-five 
thousand  more  lately  granted  by  the  government,  have  been 
invested,  and  chiefly  lost  in  disasters  by  sea  and  land.  Now 
the  crops  are  destroyed,  and  the  utter  annihilation  of  these  es- 
tablishments is  anticipated  in  the  course  of  the  year. 

But  Jayme  Bravo  is  in  Mexico.  He  collects  a  few  provi- 
sions and  goods,  and  accompanied  by  Padre  Sebastian  de 
Sistiaga  in  a  Peruvian  vessel  presented  to  the  missions  by  the 
Viceroy,  arrives  at  Loretto  in  July,  1718,  and  gives  new 
energy  to  the  missions.  The  founding  of  the  San  Miguel  by 
Padre  Tamaral,  in  29°  and  odd  minutes  N.  among  the  moun- 
tains near  the  Gulf,  is  one  of  the  features  of  returning  hope. 
Soon  after  this  Padre's  arrival  at  his  station,  two  neighboring 
settlements  of  Indians  are  baptised.  After  this  he,  with  innu- 
merable hardships,  crosses  the  mountains  to  the  settlement  of 
the  Cadigomo  tribe.  Here  he  meets  with  the  Indians  from 
the  settlements  of  La  Purissima  Concepcion,  and  accompanies 
them  home.  He  fin^  the  soil  of  their  fields  washed  away  by 
the  late  tempest,  but  determines  to  establish  the  mission  La 
Purissima  among  them.  And  after  years  of  toil,  the  zealous 
man  builds  a  parsonage  and  church,  brings  several  maize 
fields  under  cultivation,  opens  a  mule  track  over  the  moun- 


I 


!t 


•^ 


202 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


tains  to  the  mission  of  Santa  Rosalia,  and  extends  his  jurisdic- 
tion over  forty  settlements,  situated  within  a  circuit  of  ninety 
miles  around  him. 

Many  years  ago  the  Philippine  Islands  were  discovered  and 
settled  by  Spain.  Soon  a  considerable  trade  sprung  up  be- 
tween them  and  the  Spanish  possessions  in  Mexico.  Indeed 
the  products  of  the  Philippine  Islands  destined  for  old  Spain, 
are  landed  at  Accapulco,  carried  across  the  country  on  mules, 
and  reshipped  for  Old  Spain  at  the  port  of  Vera  Cruz.  The 
passage  from  these  islands  to  the  Mexican  coast  is  made,  for 
the  greater  part,  through  the  Chinese  seas,  to  latitude  30*^  N. 
Here  voyagers  fall  in  with  the  variable  winds,  which  take  them 
to  the  American  coast,  between  latitudes  30°  and  40°  N.  At 
this  point,  during  the  spring,  summer  and  autumn,  they  meet 
the  northwesterly  winds,  which  drive  them  down  the  coast 
to  Accapulco.  In  these  early  times  navigation  is  imperfectly 
imderstood.  That  ocean  too  is  chiefly  unknown.  Naviga- 
tors are  not  familiar  with  its  currents,  and  consequently  every 
voyage  across  its  trackless  waters  is  hazardous  and  prolonged. 
And  when  they  reach  the  American  coast,  the  crews  are  sick 
with  the  scurvy ;  and  they  should  land  for  a  supply  of  fresh  pro- 
visions. But  while  no  harbor  is  known,  from  Cape  San  Lucas 
to  the  remote  north,  at  which  wood,  water  and  other  nemssary 
relief  can  be  had,  the  ships  are  obliged  tp  keep  down  the  coast 
to  Mazatlan,  Accapulco,  or  some  other  port,  before  they  make 
their  first  landing,  after  leaving  the  East  Indies ;  a  distance  of 
more  than  eleven  thousand  miles.  And  when  they  arrive  at 
these  ports,  it  frequently  happens  that  nearly  all  the  crew  are 
irrecoverably  diseased,  or  dead.  In  order  to  avoid  this  dread- 
ful evil,  the  Spanish  crown  has  often  ordered  the  missionaries 
to  explore  the  coasts  for  a  bay  surrounded  by  a  country  suita- 
ble for  the  settlement  of  a  colony.  This  they  have  often  at- 
tempted, but  the  want  of  proper  animals  in  their  progresses, 
and  the  miserable  character  of  the  craft  used  in  their  voyages, 
have  thus  far  prevented  the  attainment  of  their  wishes.  But 
Padre  Ugarte  now  determines  to  survey  both  the  Pacific  and 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CAI.  IFOR  N'  IAS. 


203 


Gulf  coasts  of  the  peninsula.    His  means  are  so  small,  how- 
ever, in  every  respect,  that  his  brethren  do  not  perceive  how 
he  will  do  it.    He  wants  provisions,  men  and  a  ship.     And 
such  is  the  condition  of  public  feeling  in  Mexico,  and  such  the 
difficulty  of  journeying  there,  that  he  cannot  hope  for  aid  from 
his  friends  in  that  quarter.    But  who  knows  the  wealth  ol 
exhaustless  energy  !    Padre  Ugarte  will  build  a  ship  in  Cali- 
fornia ! !     He  has,  however,  neither  plank,  timber,  sails,  nor 
rigging,  tar,  nor  any  other  necessary  materials  for  such  a 
work ;  nor  has  he  either  a  builder  or  shipwright,  sawyer,  or  other 
naval  artificers ;  and  if  he  had,  there  is  no  food  for  their  sup- 
port ;  and  worse  than  all,  he  has  no  money  wherewith  to  sup- 
ply any  of  these  deficiencies.    But  the  Padre  says  the  King's 
orders  must  be  obeyed ;  that  this  cannot  be  done  without  the 
ship ;  and  therefore  the  ship  must  be  built  irrespective  of 
means.    The  sufferings  of  his  fellow  beings  also  demand  it. 
The  people  of  the  garrison  and  some  of  the  Padres  smile  at 
Padre  Ugarte's  resolution  against  what  seems  to  them  an  im- 
possibility.   But  they  do  not  estimate  the  creative  powers  of 
a  mind  bent  on  the  accomplishment  of  its  desires.     He  obtains 
a  builder  from  Senora,  and  makes  preparations  for  bringing 
timber  from  the  opposite  coast,  as  he  has  done  for  the  erection 
of  his  churches.     But  hearing  of  a  grove  of  large  trees  two 
hundred  miles  north  of  Loretto,  he  changes  his  determination, 
and  in  September,  1719,  goes  with  his  builders,  two  soldiers  and 
some  Indians  to  Mulege.    Here  he  remains  a  day  with  Padre 
Sistiaga,  and  then  strikes  out  for  that  line  of  mountains  Which 
overhangs  the  mission  of  Gaudalupe.  They  climb  the  heights 
and  scour  the  barren  plains ;  endure  inexpressible  difficulties 
and  toils;  and  at  last  discover  a  considerable  number  of  Gua- 
rivos  trees  of  suitable  size ;  standing,  however,  in  such  bottoms 
and  sloughs,  that  the  builder  declares  it  impossible  to  get  them 
to  the  sea.    The  Padre,  disregarding  this  suggestion,  goes  to 
Loretto ;  makes  preparations  for  a  vigorous  effort  to  build  a 
ship  of  Californian  timber ;  returns  to  the  north ;  levels  rocks, 
cuts  away  brush ;  and  making  a  road  ninety  miles  in  length 


W 


* 


If 


111 


204 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


from  Mulege  to  the  timber,  fells  it,  saws  it  into  planks,  trans- 
ports them  to  Mulege,  and  in  four  months  builds  a  vessel  and 
launches  with  his  own  hands,  in  September,  1720,  the  first 
ship  ever  built  on  the  northwest  coast  of  North  America ! ! 

In  this  herculean  labor  the  Padre  has  employed  his  entire 
means.    The  little  valuables  sent  him  by  his  friends  in  Mexi- 
co and  elsewhere,  have  not  been  spared.     Even  his  wardrobe 
has  been  freely  distributed  among  the  laborers.    He  himself 
has  swung  the  axe,  has  used  the  whip-saw,  the  chisel  and  the 
hammer ;  he  has  risen  with  the  dawn,  and  invoking  the  smiles 
of  Heaven  and  the  aid  of  ministering  spirits  in  his  toil  of  soul 
and  body,  kindly  called  his  men  to  their  tasks.    They  famish, 
and  so  does  he.    And  when  the  fatigues  of  each  day  are  over, 
the  jutting  rocks  are  their  resting-place ;  a  few  hides  their 
bed.    Yet  the  ship  i'i  built.     High  on  her  stern,  firmly  affixed 
to  her  bulwarks,  is  raised  the  symbol  of  their  faith.     Her 
name,  how  appropriate,  is,  the  "  Triumph  of  the  Cross." 
During  the  progress  of  the  work.  Jay  me  Bravo,  as  purveyor 
of  the  missions,  goes  to  the  coast  of  Cinaloa  to  procure  goods 
and  provisions.     On  his  arrival  there  he  is  surprised  to  find 
letters  from  the  Provincial  of  Mexico,  ordering  him  to  Gua- 
dalaxara  for  ordination.     He  accordingly  ships  his  supplies 
and  travels  with  all  speed  to  that  city ;  is  admitted  to  holy 
orders ;  and  by  direction  of  his  superior,  proceeds  to  Mexico 
to  procure  aid  for  the  missions. 

His  energetic  labors  are  crowned  with  success.  On  the 
fifteenth  of  March,  1720,  the  council  orders  a  bark  built,  to 
sail  between  Accapulco  and  Peru,  to  be  delivered  to  Padre 
Jayme  Bravo,  together  with  the  arms  and  stores  which  he 
desires.  The  means  of  founding  a  new  mission  at  La  Paz, 
are  also  furnished  by  the  Marquis  de  Villa  Puente ;  and  Padre 
Bravo  is  designated  as  its  priest  and  founder.  With  a  new^ 
ship,  therefore,  well  laden  with  supplies,  and  with  new  hopes 
for  all  the  missions,  and  especially  well  furnished  for  his  new 
work  at  La  Paz,  the  Padre  Jayme  Bravo  sails  from  Accapul- 
co in  July,  1720,  and  in  August  of  the  same  year  enters  the 


'I 


M 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       r  A  I.  I  F  0  K  N  I  A  S 


205 


harbor  of  Lorctto,  amidst  a  general  burst  of  joy  and  religious 
thanksgiving  of  the  starving  people  on  shore.  Comfort  and 
joy  reign  again  throughout  the  missions.  The  Padres  and 
the  garrison  are  clothed  again  j  and  the  means  being  furnish- 
ed, their  thoughts  are  again  turned  to  the  establishment  of 
other  missions.  Padre  Jayme  IJravo  leads  the  new  under- 
taking. Two  expeditions  are  therelbre  projected;  one  by 
land  and  another  by  water.  The  former  is  designed  to  open  a 
land  communication  between  Loretto  and  the  site  of  the  in- 
tended mission ;  the  other  for  the  conveyance  of  the  men  and 
provisions,  and  other  necessaries  of  the  enterprise.  The 
forces  intended  for  the  expedition  over  land  rendezvous  at  San 
Juan  Baptista  Ligui,  under  command  of  Padre  Clemente 
Guillen.  Padre  Ugarte  leads  the  other.  He  embarks  on 
board  the  "  Triumph  of  the  Cross"  with  Padre  Bravo,  the 
soldiers  and  Indians,  and  a  good  stock  of  stores  and  utensils. 
They  arrive  in  safety  at  the  bay  of  La  Paz.  This  is  in  the 
country  of  the  Guaycuros,  or  Pericues,  who  have  been 
grievously  wronged  by  Admiral  Otondo  and  the  Spanish 
pearl  fishermen.  They  are  consequently  inimical  to  the 
Spaniards,  and  will  perhaps  make  deadly  war  upon  them  as 
they  land.  But  it  soon  appears  that  those  prisoners  from 
the  fishing  barks,  whom  Padre  Salva  Tierra  has  returned 
to  their  homes,  have  given  to  their  countrymen  such  an  ac- 
count of  the  Padre's  kind  treatment  as  disposes  them  to 
friendship.  Some  of  them  appear  in  arms ;  but  as  soon 
as  they  see  the  costume  of  the  Padres,  their  arms  are  laid 
aside.  Seated  on  the  ground,  they  allow  the  Padres  to  ap- 
proach, and  accept  with  high  demonstrations  of  pleasure, 
various  presents.  The  object  of  the  expedition  is  made 
known.  They  are  assured  by  the  Padres  that  it  is  for  their 
benefit.  They  have  come  to  found  a  mission  among  them : 
to  make  peace  between  them  and  the  Indians  of  the  neigh- 
boring islands:  to  teach  them  agriculture  and  the  useful 
arts,  and  to  instriyt^them  in  the  principles  of  the  Christian 
religion.  Thereupon  the  Indians  receive  them  as  friends,  and 
18 


f 


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206 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


^ve  them  permission  to  erect  the  cross  and  consecrate  their 
shores  to  God.  Huts  are  now  erected  for  all  the  people ;  the 
stores  and  beasts  are  brought  ashore ;  a  piece  of  ground  is 
cleared  for  a  church  and  a  village ;  and  to  the  great  sur- 
prise and  delight  of  the  Indians,  a  mission  is  founded  among 
them. 

The  expedition  by  land,  under  Padre  Guillen,  has  not  yet 
arrived;  and  much  disquietude  is  awhile  felt  for  its  fate. 
But  it  is  soon  changed  to  gladness.  Three  hundred  miles 
have  been  travelled,  over  mountains,  through  woods  and  mo- 
rasses ;  and  as  the  sun  is  falling  on  the  brown  heights  in  the 
west,  a  salute  of  musketry  is  heard  on  the  northern  shore  of 
the  bay ;  it  is  returned  by  the  ship ;  and  the  boats  are  imme- 
diately sent  over  for  Padre  Guillen  and  his  company.  They 
are  worn,  naked,  hungry,  and  thirsty ;  and  with  joy  only 
known  to  themselves,  they  bathe  in  the  surf,  drink  the  water 
from  the  spring,  and  eat  the  food  of  their  brethren  in  the  new 
mission  at  La  Paz.  Padre  Ugarte  labors  three  months  nt  La 
Paz,  in  establishing  Padre  Bravo  in  his  mission.  Ard  now 
having  confirmed  the  league  of  peace  with  the  Indians  by 
numerous  acts  of  benevolence  and  Christian  love,  he  takes  a 
most  affectionate  leave  of  Padre  Bravo  and  the  soldiers  who 
remain  with  him,  and  embarks  lor  Loretto.  Padre  Guillen  is 
so  much  worn  with  his  land  expedition,  that  he  also  returns  by 
sea.  The  Ligui  Indians  who  accompanied  him,  follow  back 
the  path  by  which  they  came.  Padre  Bravo,  as  all  others  in 
charge  of  these  missions  have  done  before,  learns  the  Indian 
language ;  builds  a  parsonage,  church  and  huts ;  and  with 
the  greatest  assiduity,  applies  himself  to  gain  the  affection  of 
the  natives,  civilize  and  instruct  them,  and  relieve  them  from 
want.  As  a  reward  of  his  labor,  more  than  six  hundred 
children  and  adults  receive  baptism :  and  more  than  eight 
hundred  adults  are  assembled  in  three  well  regulated  settle- 
ments, called  Nuestra  Sennora  del  Pilar  de  La  Paz,  Todos 
Santos,  and  Angel  de  la  Guarda.  He  alsy,  a?  he  pursues 
his  holy  labors,  discovers  some  tracts  of  arable  land  sixty 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


207 


miles  distant,  which  he  annually  plants  with  maize.     All  this 
Padre  Bravo  accomplishes  single  handed  in  seven  years. 

In  the  year  1720,  while  the  Padres  are  yet  at  La  Paz,  a ' 
mission  is  founded  by  Padre  EverardHellen,  among  mountains 
in  latitude  27°  N.,  tliirty  leagues  northwest  of  San  Ignacio, 
thirty  from  Concepcion,  and  from  sixty  to  seventy  north  of 
Loretto.  The  climate  of  this  location  is  cold  and  unhealthy. 
But  the  Indians  repair  to  it  from  the  neighboring  settlements, 
and  express  the  utmost  joy  that  the  Padre,  after  long  solicita- 
tions, has  come  to  give  them  the  religion  of  the  white  man. 
This  mission  is  dedicated  to  Nuestra  Seiinora  de  Gaudalupe. 
In  the  midst  of  the  labor  of  erecting  the  edifices  of  the  mission, 
the  Padre  visits  the  most  distant  of  the  surrounding  settle- 
ments, to  instruct  the  aged  and  sick,  who  are  unable  to  come 
to  him.  Duriag  his  absence  for  these  works  of  chayty,  the 
captain,  soldiers  and  Indians,  forward  the  erection  of  the 
church,  parsonage  and  other  buildings  of  the  mission ;  so  that 
at  the  end  of  six  weeks,  it  is  in  so  good  a  condition  that 
the  captain,  leaving  a  guard  of  four  soldiers,  returns  to  Lo- 
retto. 

Such  is  the  zealous  industry  of  Padre  Hellen,  and  the  inter- 
esting attention  of  the  Indians,  that  on  Easier  eve,  1721,  he 
baptizes  a  few  converts.  And  now  from  all  the  villages  come 
applications  for  instruction  and  baptism.  The  good  Padre 
finds  it  difiicult  to  make  the  Indians  understand,  that  some 
knowledge  and  the  abandonment  of  their  old  practices  are 
necessary,  before  they  can  receive  the  sacred  rite.  He  exhorts 
them  to  give  up  the  trumperies  used  in  their  heathenish  cere- 
monies, and  worship  Jehovah.  At  length  they  bring  him  a 
large  quantity  of  pieces  of  charmed  wood,  feathers,  cloaks, 
deer's  feet,  &c.,  which  he  commits  publicly  to  the  flames, 
while  he  receives  the  transfer  of  their  faith  to  the  religion  of 
the  cross.  Thus  the  Padres  are  making  all  desirable  pro- 
gress in  the  spiritual  culture  of  the  Indians,  and  everything 
promises  well.  But  the  following  years,  1722  and  '23,  are 
very  disastrous  to  their  feeble  settlements  j  and  especially  so 


S| 


sm 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC, 


to  Gaudalupe.  The  whole  country  is  overrun  with  locnsto^. 
The  fruits,  the  chief  sustenance  of  the  Indians,  are  entirely  de- 
'stroyed.  The  maize  and  other  supplies  in  the  granaries,  are  dis- 
tributed to  save  them  from  famine.  But  in  Gaudalupe,  even 
these  are  insufficient.  The  Indians  are  therefore  compelled 
to  subsist  on  the  locusts ;  and  the  consequence  is  a  terrible 
epidemic,  by  which  great  numbers  are  destroyed.  They  are 
afflicted  with  painful  ulcers  of  a  most  loathsome  character. 
During  tWs  epidemic.  Padre  Hellen  has  to  fill  the  offices  of 
physician,  nurse,  confessor,  priest,  and  father.  He  endures 
almost  incredible  fatigue  j  flies  from  one  village  to  another  j 
administers  medicine,  prepares  food,  and  smoothes  with  a  wo- 
man's tenderness,  the  rude  couches  of  his  suflering  children. 
Thus  he  continues  till  the  sickness  ends  j  when  worn  out  with 
the  multiplicity  and  the  character  of  his  labors,  he  hails  the 
approach  of  a  season  of  rest  with  joy  and  thanksgiving.  But 
scarcely  does  it  come,  when  another  still  more  fatal  pestilence 
breaks  out  among  them.  A  dysentery  unusually  fatal  sum- 
mons the  fainting  energies  of  the  good  Padre  to  another 
effort.  He  again  enters  upon  his  charitable  offices,  going 
from  rancheria  to  rancheria,  like  an  angel  of  mercy,  consoling, 
comforting,  praying  and  blessing.  At  last  the  consequences 
of  liis  severe  labor  fall  upon  himself  in  a  distressing  hernia, 
and  defluxion  of  the  eyes,  so  extremely  painful,  that  he  is 
obliged  to  leave  his  flock  and  retire  to  Loretto.  In  a  few 
months  he  is  sufficiently  restored,  however,  to  return  to  his  du- 
ties, and  his  afflicted  Indians  receive  him  with  every  demon- 
stration of  faithful  love  and  veneration.  The  Padre  avails  him- 
self of  this  attachment  to  draw  them  to  his  faith  so  effectually, 
that,  in  1726,  seventeen  hundred  and  seven  converts  of  all 
ages  are  the  fruit  of  Padre  Hellen's  devout  labors.  Some, 
living  at  a  distance,  are  attached  to  the  more  contiguous  mis- 
sions of  Santa  Rosalia  and  San  Ignacio.  But  twenty  ranche- 
rias  remain  to  Padre  Hellen.  These  he  maintains  in  the  most 
peaceful  and  gentle  intercourse  with  each  other  and  with 
himself.    They  are  divided  into  villages  of  four  rancherias, 


^   I    / 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIAS. 


209 


with  each  a  chapel.  And  in  these  humble  sanctuaries,  as 
often  as  the  Padre  visits  them,  the  red  men  gather  and  pay 
their  devotions  to  the  true  God !  The  proppress  made  in  spir- 
itual improvement  is  equal  to  his  most  ardent  desires.  But 
the  nature  of  the  country  forbids  equal  advancement  in  the 
arts  of  civilized  life.  They  cannot  raise  the  small  grains ; 
and  their  only  resource  is  the  cultivation  of  maize  and  the 
raising  of  cattle.  These  are  procured  by  the  Padre ;  and 
with  the  native  fruits  afford  them  a  comfortable  subsistence. 
The  justice  and  kindness  of  the  Padre  win  him  the  love  and 
esteem  of  all  the  Indians;  and  he  desires  to  live  and  die 
among  them.  But  his  health  again  failing,  and  his  superior 
regarding  him  with  more  tenderness  than  he  does  himself, 
transfers  him  to  an  easier  office  in  Mexico.  And  thus,  having 
spent  sixteen  years  in  the  most  arduous  and  faithful  discharge 
of  his  duties  as  a  missionary  in  California,  he,  with  grief  and 
tears,  in  1735,  takes  leave  of  the  Indians  of  Santa  Guadalupe. 
While  these  labors  are  being  prosecuted,  a  very  strong  de- 
sire is  felt  by  the  Padres  to  extend  the  commercial  and  civil 
advantages  of  California  by  the  establishment  of  colonies,  gar- 
risons, and  good  harbors,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  Philip- 
pine and  Chinese  ships.  In  order  to  accomplish  this,  it  is 
desirable  to  do  three  things  ;  first,  to  take  a  minute  survey  by 
water,  of  the  Pacific  coast^  from  Cape  San  Lucas  northward, 
in  search  of  such  harbors ;  second,  to  pursue  the  same  sear6h 
by  a  land  expedition,  skirting  the  coast  between  the  same 
points ;  and  third,  to  survey  the  Californian  Gulf,  in  order  to 
ascertain  whether  the  peninsula  be  really  such,  or  an  island, 
cut  off'  from  the  main  land  by  a  channel  at  the  north  end. 
Great  difficulties  oppose  the  prosecution  of  all  these  enter- 
prises by  the  feeble  powers  of  the  Padre.  But  after  much  de- 
liberation, it  is  resolved  to  undertake  the  two  last.  The  sur- 
vey of  the  Gulf  being  deemed  the  most  difficult  and  import- 
ant. Padre  Ugarte  detemines  to  take  charge  of  it  himself,  and 
while  he  is  making  the  necessary  preparation,  he  desires 

Padre  Guillen  to  attempt  the  land  tour,  on  the  Pacific  Coast. 
18* 


li 


t»JJ. 


210 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


They  learn  from  the  narrative  of  Viscayno,  who  has  sur- 
veyed the  coast  northward  from  Cape  San  Lucas,  in  the  pre- 
ceding century,  that  there  is  a  spacious  bay  in  latitude  23^ 
or  24®  N. ;  and  to  this  point  Padre  Guillen  directs  his  steps  in 
1719,  accompanied  by  a  party  of  soldiers,  and  three  bodies  of 
Californians,  armed  after  the  manner  of  the  natives.  They 
travel  over  a  rough,  barren,  craggy  country,  and  are  obliged 
to  use  the  greatest  caution  to  prevent  the  natives  from  cutting 
them  off.  Twenty-five  days  they  journey  thus,  and  at  last 
reach  the  bay  of  Magdalena ;  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  re- 
posing in  the  embrace  of  lofty  mountains.  On  one  arm  of  it 
they  find  a  rancheria  of  Indians,  whom  they  gain  over  by  a 
few  presents,  and  enter  into  friendly  intercourse  with  them. 
From  them  they  learn  that  there  is  but  one  well  of  fresh 
water  in  the  vicinity ;  but  that  on  a  neighboring  island  called 
Santa  Rosa,  there  is  an  abundant  supply.  They  have  no 
means,  however,  of  crossing  to  it.  The  whole  region 
proves  so  rough  and  divided,  between  marshes  and  inac- 
cessible piles  of  rock,  as  to  be  worthless.  They  there- 
fore make  a  circuit  of  four  leagues  from  the  sea  to  the 
rancheria  San  Benito  de  Amy.  Here  they  receive  from  the 
Indians  a  very  discouraging  account  of  the  scarcity  of  water, 
on  the  whole  coast.  Notwitlistanding  this,  the  Padre  is  anx- 
ious to  survey  the  country  from  north  to  south,  and  uses  all 
his  eloquence  to  induce  the  soldiers  and  Californians  to  under- 
take it.  But  being  fatigued  and  disheartened,  they  refuse  to 
proceed.  The  Padre  yields  reluctantly  to  the  necessity  of  the 
case,  and  taking  some  friendly  Indians  of  the  coast  with  him 
as  guides,  commences  his  return  to  Loretto.  From  the  supe- 
rior knowledge  that  the  guides  possess,  they  accomplish  their 
backward  journey  in  fifteen  days ;  and  once  more  congratu- 
late themselves  on  their  arrival  at  the  garrison. 

Their  report  does  not  much  encourage  the  hope  of  Padre 
Ugarte  in  relation  to  his  expedition  by  sea.  But  having  made 
the  best  preparations  in  his  power,  he  sets  sail  from  the  bay  of 
Loretto  on  the  fifteenth  of  May,  1721,  with  the  "  Triumph  of 


; 


m 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


211 


the  Cross,"  and  a  boat  called  the  Santa  Barbara,  to  be  used 
in  sounding  such  waters  as  are  too  shallow  for  the  larger 
vessel.  The  Santa  Barbara  has  eleven  feet  keel  and  six  feet 
beam.  She  carries  eight  persons.  The  bilander  carries 
twenty ;  six  of  whom  are  Europeans,  and  the  rest  Indians. 
Of  the  former,  two  have  passed  the  straits  of  Magellan,  another 
has  made  a  voyage  to  the  Philippine  Islands  and  Batavia, 
and  another  has  been  several  times  to  Newfoundland.  The 
pilot  passes  for  a  man  of  learning  and  experience ;  and  thus 
supported.  Padre  Ugarte  departs  on  his  momentous  enter- 
prise. He  takes  but  a  small  stock  of  provisions,  expecting  to 
receive  a  full  supply  from  the  mission  on  the  opposite  coast 
of  Pimeria.  The  winds  bear  them  safely  to  the  bay  of  Con- 
cepcion,  where  Padre  Ugarte  visits  the  mission  of  Santa  Ro- 
salia, and  spends  some  hours  in  social  pleasure  with  Padre 
Sistiaga.  Hence  they  pass  the  islands  of  Salsipuedes.  From 
these  they  cross  the  Gulf  to  the  harbor  of  Santa  Sabina  and 
the  bay  of  San  Juan  Baptista.  Here  they  observe  Indians 
standing  on  the  shore,  who  flee  as  the  boat  nears  them.  When 
the  Padre  lands,  he  sees  a  rude  cross  set  up  in  the  sand.  The 
simple  solitary  sign  speaks  to  the  good  man's  heart.  He 
bows  before  it,  and  the  crews  prostrate  themselves  in  rever- 
ence at  its  foot.  This  is  enough.  The  Indians,  reassured  by 
this  act,  shout  a  friendly  welcome,  and  rush  from  their  con- 
cealment. They  have  known  the  venerable  Salva  Tierra  j 
and  the  strangers'  reverence  for  the  cross  allays  all  their  fears; 
so  strong  have  been  their  love  and  respect  for  that  great  man, 
that  they  put  all  trust  in  his  brethren ;  and  are  so  impatient 
to  be  near  the  Padre  Ugarte,  that  they  swim  to  the  ship,  and 
manifest  their  joy  by  kissing  his  hands  and  face,  and  embrac- 
ing his  feet.  The  good  Padre's  heart  is  deeply  touched  by 
these  tokens  of  confidence  and  love,  and  having  sent  two  of 
them  with  a  letter  to  the  Padre  of  San  Ignacio,  and  distribut- 
ed some  presents  among  the  others,  makes  preparations  to 
procure  a  supply  of  water.  For  this  purpose  all  the  casks  are 
immediately  put  on  shore.    They  have  no  interpreter,  but  the 


i 


" 


212 


SCENES       IN       THE      PACIFIC 


Indians  seem  to  enter  into  some  dispute  relative  to  the  casks. 
By  and  by  they  all  take  leave,  intimating  by  signs  that  they 
will  return  vvrith  the  next  sun.  The  Padre  and  the  crew  grow 
apprehensive.  What  do  the  Indians  mean  7  It  cannot  be 
known.  But  being  late,  they  go  on  board,  and  wait  the 
event.  Night  comes  onj  but  no  hostile  savages  break  its 
silence.  With  the  early  morning,  however,  the  dreaded  sava- 
ges are  seen  returning  in  troops,  with  rush  buckets  filled  with 
water ;  the  men  with  two,  and  the  women  one  each.  The 
faithful  creatures,  understanding  the  want  implied  by  the  empty 
casks,  have  visited  their  mountain  springs  during  the  night, 
and  now  rejoice  to  pour  their  crystal  treasures  into  the  good 
Padre's  vessels.  Repaying  their  kindness  as  liberally  as  his 
small  means  will  permit,  he  undertakes  to  visit  their  kinsmen 
on  a  neighboring  island.  The  pinnace  and  bilander  are  pi- 
loted by  two  of  these  Indians.  A  small  party  in  a  canoe  row 
in  advance  of  the  ships,  during  the  night.  At  dawn  they  are 
in  a  narrow  channel  full  of  rocks  and  sand  spits ;  and  notwith- 
standing their  precautions,  the  bilander  grounds  on  a  shoal 
and  requires  all  the  efforts  of  her  crew  for  some  hours  to  get 
her  off. 

This  period  of  anxiety  over,  another  begins ;  for  now  the 
canoe  and  pinnace  have  disappeared.  The  bilander  therefore 
goes  on,  though  dangers  beset  her  on  every  side,  and  after 
three  days  of  tacking  and  sounding,  reaches  a  tortuous  chan- 
nel leading  into  a  large  bay.  In  this  lie  the  pinnace  and 
canoe  near  the  island  they  are  seeking.  Thither  they  direct 
their  course  without  more  difficulties  or  delays.  As  they  ap- 
proach, the  natives  appear  on  the  shore,  armed  and  shouting 
with  the  intention  of  intimidating  the  strangers.  But  their 
countrymen  swimming  ashore  in  advance,  inform  them  that 
Padre  Salva  Tierra's  brother  is  come  in  the  ship  to  see 
them.  Hearing  this,  they  lay  down  their  arms  and  express 
the  liveliest  sentiments  of  joy.  The  bilander  having  dropped 
her  anchor,  the  Padre  is  earnestly  solicited  to  go  on  shore 
But  being  attacked  with  the  most  excruciating  pains  through- 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


213 


out  his  person,  from  the  chost  downward,  he  reluctantly  fore- 
goes the  pleasure  of  complying  with  their  invitation.  These 
pains  have  followed  him  occasionally  since  the  severe  expo- 
sure which  he  endured  in  the  harbor  of  Seris.  The  Indians, 
seeing  that  illness  prevents  his  leaving  the  ship,  construct  a 
number  of  small  light  floats,  and  send  aboard  a  deputation  of 
forty  or  fifty  persons,  requesting  that  he  will  occupy,  during 
his  indisposition,  a  house  which  they  have  erected  for  him  on 
the  beach.  The  good  Padre  cannot  refuse  this  proffer  of 
sympathy,  and  though  every  motion  is  agony,  gives  direc- 
tions to  be  placed  in  the  boat  and  rowed  ashore.  On  landing, 
he  is  treated  with  great  consideration.  The  islanders  have 
formed  themselves  in  double  file  from  the  waterside  to  the 
house ;  the  men  on  one  side  and  the  women  on  the  other. 
Between  these  lines  he  is  borne  to  the  dwelling.  It  is  a 
small  wigwam  constructed  of  green  boughs,  fronting  plea- 
santly on  the  open  bay.  Here  the  suffering  Padre  being 
seated,  the  people  who  have  lined  his  pathway,  come  in  one 
by  one,  first  the  men,  then  the  women,  and  passing  along, 
bow  their  heads  that  he  may  lay  his  hand  upon  them,  and 
bless  them.  The  Padre  conceals  his  bodily  agonies  with 
great  heroism,  and  receives  them  with  much  pleasantness  and 
regard. 

This  ceremony  over,  the  islanders  gather  about  for  instruc- 
tion. He  cannot  remain  sufficient  time  to  do  this ;  and  re- 
commending them  to  go  to  the  Mission  del  Populo,  and  bring 
thither  an  Indian  teacher,  who  will  answer  their  inquiries  and 
teach  them  the  precepts  of  the  gospel,  he  re-embarks  and 
continues  his  survey.  He  soon  afterward  discovers  a  small 
open  bay,  where  his  little  fleet  comes  to  anchor.  His  sup- 
plies are  now  nearly  exhausted.  It  therefore  becomes  him  to 
hasten  his  explorations.  Accordingly  he  sends  the  pinnace 
to  survey  the  coast  by  sea,  and  three  men  to  examine  it  by 
land.  The  latter  return  on  the  second  day.  They  have 
taken  an  outline  of  the  neighboring  land,  and  have  seen  a 
pool  of  stagnant  water,  and  some  mule  tracks  in  the  path 


214 


SCEMK6      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


leading  from  it.  The  Padre  sees  mucii  in  these  tracks,  and 
despatches  two  seamen  with  orders  to  follow  them.  These 
arrive  on  the  third  day  at  the  Mission  of  Concepcion  la  Ca- 
borca.  Here  they  find  Padre  Luis  Gallardi,  to  whom  they 
deliver  Padre  Ugarte's  letters,  addressed  to  himself  and  the 
Padre  Missionary  of  San  Ignacio.  These  being  found  to  con- 
tain urgent  petitions  for  the  promised  supplies,  the  Padre 
Gallardi  immediately  sets  out  with  such  small  quantities  as 
he  can  collect  at  so  short  notice. 

Padre  Ugarte  is  still  suffering  the  most  excruciating  tor- 
tures. The  only  position  which  he  can  endure,  is  on  his 
knees.  He  has  been  twelve  days  in  these  dreadful  agonies, 
unable  even  to  go  on  shore.  But  now  hearing  of  the  arrival 
of  Padre  Gallardi,  and  the  expected  visit  of  the  Padre  Mis- 
sionary from  San  Ignacio,  he  determines,  if  possible,  to 
receive  them  ashore.  It  is  no  easy  thing  for  him  to  leave  the 
ship.  But  at  last  it  is  accomplished ',  and  he  travels  a  league 
and  a  half  to  meet  his  visiters. 

The  meagre  supplies  which  they  bring  him  are  a  source 
of  anxiety  to  the  host  and  his  guests.  The  pmnace,  too, 
is  still  absent.  She  was  sent  to  survey  the  coast  at  the 
same  time  that  the  men  were  despatched  by  land.  The 
shores  of  the  Gulf  have  been  searched  for  a  great  distance 
north  and  south,  but  no  trace  of  her  being  found,  she  is 
nearly  given  up  for  lost.  The  bilander,  too,  is  in  continual 
danger  from  the  agitation  of  the  sea.  She  has  already  parted 
one  of  her  cables ;  and  now  a  heavy  sea  carries  away  her 
bowsprit,  on  which  is  mounted  the  "  Holy  Cross !"  This 
causes  great  consternation.  Fortunately  a  returning  wave 
throws  most  of  her  bowsprit  back ;  but  the  cross  is  still  at 
the  mercy  of  the  waves  !  and  the  fears  of  the  crew  increase. 
Heaven  frowns  on  their  labors,  and  has  removed  from  them 
the  symbol  of  its  mercy.  The  next  day,  however,  an  Indian 
recovers  the  sacred  emblem,  and  it  is  again  planted  in  triumph 
on  the  prow.  Attention  is  now  turned  to  obtaining  wood  and 
Water.    The  former  is  easily  procured  in  the  glen  near  the 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIAS, 


215 


\      / 


shore;  but  the  latter  they  bring  Irom  a  spring  several  miles 
distant.    While  thus  engaged,  they  rejoice  to  see  three  of  the 
pinnace's  crew  approaching  them.    They  relate  that  after 
weathering  a  very  rough  sea,  and  being  several  times  in  im- 
minent danger,  they  cast  anchor  at  sunset  in  a  large  shallow 
bay,  with  two  fathoms  water,  and  went  to  rest.     On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  they  were  in  a  singular  predicament  for  sea- 
men, out  of  sight — not  of  land — but  of  water ! !    The  sea 
had  retired.     What  should  be  done  ?    No  water,  either  fresh 
or  salt,  was  in  sight,  and  the  supply  of  provisions  was  very 
scanty.    Some  ofthem  resolved  therefore,  to  leave  the  pinnace 
in  search  of  water  and  food.     Finding  none,  however,  and 
seeing  nothing  but  famine  and  death  before  them,  they  con- 
cluded to  travel  down  the  coast  to  Yaqui.     The  pinnace,  how- 
ever, was  visited  by  another  flood  tide,  which  her  exhausted 
crew  improved  to  get  her  afloat.     Her  keel  had  been  much 
damaged.    This  they  repaired,  and  immediately  laid  their 
course  for  the  bilander.     Four  days  after    leaving    her  unfor- 
tunate berth  she  rejoins  her  companion.     They  now  determine 
to  depart  from  this  ungenerous  region  and  its  treacherous 
waters,  where  neither  food,  fresh  water,  fuel  nor  home  for 
man  are  to  be  found,  but  a  mere  wilderness  of  lonely  shores. 
Somewhat  disheartened  by  these  unpropitious  circumstances, 
Padre  Ugarte,  on  the  second  of  July,  turns  his  prow  westward 
for  California.     On  the  third  day  afterward  he  drops  the 
anchor  of  the  bilander  and  sends  the  pinnace  ashore  to  talk 
with  some  Indians,  who,  at  the  sight  of  the  fleet,  have  lined 
the  shore,  all  armed  in  their  native  style.    Before  the  men 
leave  the  pinnace  the  Indians  draw  a  line  on  the  sand,  and 
intimate  by  signs  it  will  not  be  safe  for  their  visiters  to  cross 
it.     A  few  presents,  however,  and  some  pantomiming,  estab- 
lish affairs  on  a  better  footing.     They  conduct  the  Padres 
and  people  to  their  rancheria,  at  which  is  abundance  of 
water. 

After  remaining  a  short  time  with  these  savages,  they 
journey  about  nine  leagues  along  the  coast  and  find  five 


\     I 


216 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


watering  places,  with  a  rancheria  at  each.  The  Bilander 
continuing  her  survey,  at  length  casts  anchor  in  a  large  bay ; 
but  finding  the  current  so  strong  as  to  prevent  her  riding  head 
to  the  wind.  Padre  Ugarte  sends  the  pinnace  down  the  coast 
in  search  of  a  better  harbor,  while  the  pilot  goes  ashore  in 
the  boat  seeking  an  anchorage  farther  up  the  bay,  returns 
next  day  with  the  boat  in  so  shattered  a  condition,  that  it 
is  with  difficulty  the  people  are  taken  on  board  before  she 
parts  asunder.  The  pilot  reports  that  he  left  her  on  the  sand 
and  went  a  short  distance  to  a  rancheria ;  that  while  there 
exchanging  friendly  intercourse  with  the  Indians,  the  tide 
came  in  with  tremendous  force,  and  threw  the  boat  so  vio- 
lently upon  the  rocks,  that  she  separated  from  stem  to  stern ; 
that  the  Indians  offered  them  timber  to  build  another ;  but  as 
this  was  impossible,  they  drew  the  nails  from  the  oars,  fasten- 
ed the  two  parts  together,  and  using  their  sounding  line  and 
painter  for  oakum,  and  substituting  clay  for  pitch,  caulked 
the  seam.  Ail  night  they  were  thus  employed,  the  Indians 
kindly  rendering  them  whatever  assistance  was  in  their  power ; 
and  the  next  day  keeping  near  the  shore  with  their  crazy 
leaky  boat,  they  reached  the  bilander  as  related.  In  a  short 
time  the  pinnace  arrives,  having  cruised  forty  leagues  and 
discovered  no  harbor. 

The  bilander  now  again  stands  northward,  and  in  a 
few  days  finds  herself  sailing  in  waters  whose  variable  hue 
indicates  her  approach  to  the  outlet  of  some  great  river. 
Padre  Ugarte  keeps  the  pinnace  sounding  ahead,  and  after 
standing  across,  and  making  some  northing,  comes  to  anchor 
on  the  Peninsula  side,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  of  the 
west.  It  is  disgorging  a  great  volume  of  angry  waters,  laden 
with  grass,  weeds,  trunks  of  trees,  burned  logs,  timbers 
of  wigwams,  &c.  There  has  evidently  been  ruthless  w  )rk 
inland.  Terrible  storms,  accompanied  with  thunder  and 
lightning,  have  visited  the  voyagers  during  the  night,  and 
spread  over  the  country,  whence  the  river  issues.  The  men 
are  anxious,  as  soon  as  the  flood  subsides,  to  go  up  and  sur- 


TRAVELS      IN      T  11  K      C  A  I.  1  K  0  R  N  V  A  S  , 


217 


vey  this  stream.  But  Padre  Ugarte  thinks  the  floods  beneath, 
and  the  angry  clouds  above,  will  render  the  undertaking  haz- 
ardous. Beside,  himself  and  several  of  his  crew  are  very  ill. 
They  therefore  cross  the  western  mouth  of  the  Colorado,  and 
anchor  in  four  fathom  water,  opposite  the  island  which  divides 
the  outlet.  From  this  point  they  have  a  distant  view  of  the 
union  of  the  Peninsula  with  the  main  land.  The  Padre  is  de- 
sirous of  exploring  this  region  more  particularly ;  but  ill 
health  and  the  great  danger  to  which  his  vessel  is  exposed 
from  the  impetuosity  and  height  of  the  tides,  make  him  hesi- 
tate. The  pilot  is  satisfied  from  the  present  height  of  the 
tides  that  they  are  at  the  head  of  a  gulf;  and  that  the 
waters  beyond  it  are  those  of  the  Colorado.  The  danger  of 
remaining  in  this  place  becoming  more  and  more  imminent, 
they  at  length  hold  a  council,  at  which  it  is  determined  to  re- 
turn to  California.  Their  decision  is  received  by  the  men 
with  a  general  acclamation  of  applause,  and  greatly  to  the 
satisfaction  of  all,  they  weigh  anchor  on  the  sixteenth  of 
July,  1721,  for  the  port  of  Loretfo. 

Their  course  lies  down  the  middle  of  the  Gulf;  sometimes 
standing  toward  one  shore  and  sometimes  the  other ;  in  order 
to  note  more  particularly  the  islands  and  shoals,  which  fill 
these  watei-s.  Meantime  they  are  visited  by  tremendous  tem- 
pests and  storms  of  rain  ;  and  the  Padre,  fearing  for  the  peo- 
ple in  the  pinnace,  which  is  withQut  a  deck,  urges  the  mate  to 
leave  her  and  come  with  her  crew  on  board  of  the  bilander. 
But  that  officer  trusting  to  his  own  craft,  informs  the  Padre, 
that  if  he  will  furnish  him  with  provisions,  he  will  sail  direct- 
ly to  Loretto ;  and  to  secure  safety  in  so  doing,  will  keep  so 
near  the  shore  as  to  be  able  to  run  in,  should  any  accident 
render  such  proceeding  necessary.  They  therefore  separate, 
and  each  pursues  his  own  course.  The  bilander,  after  much 
trouble,  arrives  at  the  islands  of  Salsipuedes.  She  is  here 
obliged,  by  the  winds  and  strong  currents,  to  lie  at  anchor 
for  several  nights.  At  last,  however,  she  weathers  the  Islands 
of  Tiburon.  But  such  is  the  force  of  the  currents,  that  in  six 
19 


$ 


i 


^k, 


218 


SCENES      [N      THE      PACIFIC 


hours  they  lose  the  labor  of  eight  days.  Meantime  the  tem- 
pests continue  almost  every  night  with  frightful  fury.  The 
hungry  waters  roar  around  the  frail  bark,  and  the  winds  and 
storms  scourge  her  as  if  she  were  some  doomed  thing,  labor- 
ing under  their  curse.  But  the  men  take  courage,  for  the 
"  Triumph  of  the  Cross"  is  a  special  object  of  Divine  favor. 
Ti..ee  successive  nights  the  fires  of  Saint  Ehno  light  the  cross 
at  the  mast  head,  and  no  evil  can  befall  them  after  such  evi- 
dence of  God's  protection.  They  are  encouraged,  therefore,  to 
make  a  third  attempt  to  escape  from  this  dangerous  neighbor- 
hood. Eight  days  struggling  are  vain.  The  currents  and 
storms  will  not  suffer  them  to  depart ;  and  at  last  they  resolvf 
to  come  to  anchor  at  a  convenient  place  which  they  discover 
near  one  of  the  islands,  and  go  on  shore.  This  begins  now  to 
be  a  matter  of  necessity  on  account  of  the  sickness  which  has 
disabled  all  the  crew  except  five.  Some  have  the  scurvy, 
and  others  are  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  sea  water, 
■which,  farther  up  the  Gulf,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Colorado, 
has  been  so  poisonous,  as  to  produce  panful,  obstinate  sores, 
and  sharp  pains  in  many  parts  of  the  body.  Padre  Ugarte 
himself,  besides  his  other  indispositions,  is  afflicted  with  the 
scurvy ;  and  it  is  essential  that  he  take  means  to  recover 
health.  The  Padre,  notwithstanding  his  illness,  is  desirous  t(t 
go  in  the  boat  to  the  Seris  coast,  and  thence  by  land  to  Guay- 
raas.  But  the  bare  mention  of  his  departure  causes  such  de- 
jection among  the  crew,  that  he  promises  not  to  leave  them  if 
it  cost  his  life  to  remain. 

They  lie  at  anchor  in  this  place  about  four  days ;  during 
which  time  they  are  visited  by  a  tampest  more  violent  than 
any  that  preceded  it.  At  length  to  their  inexpressible  joy, 
on  the  eighteenth  of  August,  they  escape  these  vexations,  and 
are  once  more  in  an  open  sea.  On  the  Sunday  morning  fol- 
lowing, they  hail  a  most  happy  omen  to  their  future  voyage. 
Three  beautiful  rainbows  hang  over  the  islands  they  have  just 
weathered ;  bright  arches  of  promise  rising  above  the  clouds 
that  have  so  long  lowered  over  them.    The  sick  too  are  now 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA rf 


319 


all  recovering,  and  everything  promises  fairly  to  the  buffeted 
mariners.    Their  hopes  are  vain.     Other  misfortunes  are  in 
reserve,  more  frightful  than  any  they  have  encountered.    For 
just  before  they  reach  the  bay  of  Concepcion,  a  storm  comes 
up  from  the  north-east  so  very  suddenly,  that  they  have 
barely  time  to  furl  the  topsails  and  reef  the  foresail,  before  its 
fury  reaches  them.     The  lightning  falls  around  them,  as  if  it 
would  scorch  an  ocean  to  ashes,  and  the  thunder-peals  shake 
the  firmament ;  the  rain  falls  like  the  pouring  of  an  upper 
sea,  and  the  wind  ploughs  the  ocean  into  mountains !   In  the 
height  of  this  raging  war,  the  terrified  mariners  discover  a 
water-spout  not  more  than  a  league  distant,  travelling  directly 
toward  the  ship,  with  the  speed  of  the  wind !    They  fall  upon 
their  knees  before  the  cross,  and  implore  the  protection  of 
"Our  Lady,"  and  their  patron  saints.    They  spare  neither 
prayers,  vows,  nor  entreaties !    And  suddenly  when  the  foe  is 
almost  upon  them,  the  wind  shifts  and  drives  it  among  the 
thirsty  mountains  of  California.     It  discharges  its  devastating 
energies  upon  their  barren  sands  and  rocks!    Padre  Ugarte 
says,  that  among  all  the  dangers  of  the  voyage,  this  was  the 
time  of  greatest  consternation. 

About  the  first  of  September,  the  vessel  comes  to  anchor 
in  the  bay  of  Concepcion ;  and  they  repair  in  boats  to  Mulege, 
to  partake  the  hospitality  of  Padre  Sistiaga.    After  spending 
about  two  weeks  in  recruiting  the  sick,  they  return  to  their 
voyage,  and  soon  after  arrive  at  Lorelto.     To  their  great  joy 
they  find  the  pinnace  has  arrived  four  days  in  advance  of 
them.    Thus  ends  this  eventful  and  important  voyage.    It 
serves  to  satisfy  the  Padres  of  many  things  which  before  were 
doubtful ;  namely,  that  on  the  coast  of  California  are  some 
few  watering  places  near  the  shore;  that  the  Indians  are 
kind,  gentle,  and  willing  to  be  instructed  j  while  those  on  the 
main  coast,  east  of  the  Gulf,  are  sluggish,  ungenerous,  and 
unwilling  to  enter  into  any  intercourse  with  the  whites.    They 
are  also  now  convinced  that  California  is  no  island,  but  a 


\ 


w 


220 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


peninsula ;  and  that  all  their  plans  for  extending  the  missions 
so  as  to  form  a  chain  of  connection  with  those  in  Pimcria  are 
feasible.    They  have  also  obtained  a  much  more  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  Gulf  and  its  islands,  shoals  and  currents, 
than  they  ever  before  possessed ;  so  that  the  difficulties  and 
dangers  of  any  future  voyage  are  much  lessened.     Great  sat- 
isfaction is  felt  at  these  results ;  and  yet  the  Padres  grieve 
that  they  have  not  found  a  safe  harbor,  as  their  King  has  de- 
sired, in  which  the  distressed  seamen  of  the  ships,  bound  from 
the  Philippine  Islands  to  Acapulco,  may  anchor  and  be  spared 
by  timely  care,  a  dreadful  death  from  the  scurvy.      The 
Padres  still  consider  it  their  duty  to  pursue  this  object.     They 
feel  a  moral,  as  well  as  national  obligation  to  prevent  this 
suffering.    It  can  only  be  done  by  discovering  a  harbor  on  the 
Pacific  coast,  secure  from  seaward  storms  and  convenient  to 
fresh  water.     With  a  view  to  this,  Padre  Tamaral  surveys 
nearly  the  whole  coast  from  his  mission  to  Cape  San  Lucas, 
and  far  northward  also,  from  the  same  point;   but  all  to  no 
purpose.     It  is  found  inhospitable  and  barren  near  the  sea  ; 
and  destitute  of  a  harbor  in  which  ships  may  lie  with  any 
safety. 

Padre  Ugarte,  on  his  return  to  Loretto,  directs  a  new  sur- 
vey of  the  same  coast  as  far  north  as  poss'ble.  And  in  com- 
pliance with  this  order,  a  small  detachment  cf  soldiers  under 
the  captain  of  the  garrison  goes  to  the  mission  of  Santa  Ro- 
salia de  Mulege,  and  thence  with  P^idre  Sistiaga,  to  the  mis- 
sion of  Guadalupe.  On  the  nineteenth  of  November,  1721, 
it  leaves  for  the  coast,  and  advances  northward  to  28°  '^. 
In  this  excursion  they  find  three  pretty  good  harbors,  with 
plenty  of  water  and  wood ;  but  no  arable  land  near  them. 
The  largest  one  is  not  far  from  the  mission  of  San  Xavier ; 
and  may  therefore  be  su^tplied  with  provisions,  timber,  &c., 
from  that  post.  Highly  gratified  with  these  discoveries,  they 
return  to  Loietto  and  report  to  Padre  Ugarte  what  they  have 
found.    The  Padre  sends  a  narrative  of  hib  own  voyage,  to- 


^^ 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFOT.  NIAS. 


221 


getlier  with  the  map  and  journal  of  his  pilot,  and  Padre  Sisti- 
aga's  account  of  his  discoveries,  to  the  Viceroy  of  Mexico,  to 
be  transmitted  to  the  Court,  for  the  information  and  action  of 
the  Government.  Meanwhile  the  Padres  turn  their  attention 
to  the  spiritual  conquest  of  this  wild  country. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


m 


A  Mission  Founded — A  Tornado— Death — Another  Mission  Founded— 
A  Vineyard — A  Harvest— Indications  of  Trouble — A  Murder— For- 
bearance— Three  Murders — Measures  taken  for  Defence — The  Insur- 
gents Captured — A  Trial— A  Sentence— A  Reprieve — Death  of  Padre 
Piccolo— A  Visitor — Further  Steps  in  the  Conquest — jo.  Voyage- 
Birds — Natives — Country — Islands — A  Plunge — A  Shark — Deatli. 

The  Padres  have  lost  none  of  their  religious  zeal  while 
prosecuting  these  civil  enterprises;  and  they  have  gained 
much  topographical  and  other  knowledge,  which  will  be  of 
general  service  in  their  future  missionary  labors.  They  have 
learned  the  practicability  of  extending  their  missions  farther 
noi  th.  The  country  there  is  more  fertile  and  better  supplied 
with  wood  anci  water.  The  moral  aspect  too  is  more  promis- 
ing. The  natives  in  that  quarter  are  much  superior  in  intellect, 
more  gentle  and  friendly,  more  honest  and  faithful ;  and  in 
every  way  more  inviting  and  promising  than  those  in  the 
south.  There,  is  a  rich  field  of  labor  opened  to  them.  But  at 
the  same  time  the  condition  of  the  southern  natives  renders  ft 
mcie  necessary  that  they  should  be  formed  into  missions. 
They  are  treacherous,  vindictive,  bloody ;  and  have  many  vices 
which  are  unknown  among  the  northern  people.  The  whole 
nation  of  Pericues  with  its  several  branches  of  Uchities,  Guay- 
curos  and  Coras,  are  continually  engaged  in  destructive  wars, 
so  that  no  security  can  be  enjoyed  by  the  missions  or  their 
19* 


J 


11 


ii 


222 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


converts,  until  this  entire  people  are  brought  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Padres.  To  this  end,  during  the  time  that  Padre 
Ugarte  has  been  exploring  the  Gulf  and  coast,  two  new  mis- 
sions have  been  founded  among  Pericues. 

The  Marques  de  Villa  Puente,  having  a  deep  interest  in  the 
spread  of  the  gospel  in  California,  has  endowed  two  missions 
which  shall  be  founded  between  Cape  San  Lucas  and  Loretto. 
Oh  receiving  tidings  of  this,  it  is  resolved  that  Padre  Guil- 
len shall  leave  the  mission  San  Lucas  de  Malibat,  and  found 
a  new  mission  between  the  Uchities  and  Giiaycuros.  Accord- 
ingly in  1721,  he  settles  among  them  and  lays  the  foi:ndatio.» 
of  a  church  and  other  buildings  necessary  to  a  mission,  on  the 
shore  of  Aparte,  foriy  leagues  by  sea,  and  on  account  of  im- 
passable mountains,  sixty  by  land,  from  Loretto.  The  mission 
is  dedicated  to  Nuestra  Sennora  de  los  Dolores,  and  is  styled 
Los  Dolores  del  Sur.  The  country  around  it  is  barren  and 
desolate.  The  i'lhabitants  are  the  most  vindictive,  treacher- 
ous and  stupid  of  al'  the  Californians.  Padre  Guillen  has 
therefore  no  easy  or  pleasant  task  to  execute.  But  he  enters 
upon  it  with  so  much  zeal  and  love,  is  so  unsparing  of  his 
efforts,  and  so  universally  kind  and  gpntle  toward  those  whom 
he  would  win  to  his  flock,  that  his  labors  are  rewarded  even 
more  largely  than  his  fondest  Iwpes  anticipate. 

It  is  found  advisable  after  the  good  Padre  has  been  laboring 
here  for  some  time,  to  remove  his  mission  farther  into  the  in- 
terior, to  a  place  called  Tanuetia,  about  icn  leagues  from  the 
Gulf  and  twenty-five  from  the  Pacific.  In  this  region  the  In- 
dians live  in  the  wildest  state.  They  have  no  villages;  and 
the  Padre  is  obliged  to  seek  them  in  caves  and  woods,  and 
among  the  almost  inaccessible  rocks  of  the  mountains.  With 
great  labor  and  the  most  indefatigable  perseverance  he 
draws  them  f  om  their  retreats  and  forms  them  into  six  villa- 
ges, called  Nuestra  Sennora  de  los  Dolores,  La  Concepcion 
de  Nuestra  Sennora,  La  Incarnacion,  T^a  Trinidad,  La  Rc'demp- 
cion,  and  La  Resurreccion.  He  also  assembles  many  other 
wandering  Indiadis,  and  erects  for  them  the  new  mission  of 


I     f 


TRAVEL 


IN       THE      CAHFOBNIAS 


223 


San  Luis  Gonzaga.  I^astly,  he  turns  his  attention  to  the  con- 
version of  the  Indians  on  the  Pacific  coast,  from  the  mission 
of  San  Xavier  southward  to  the  Coras ;  and  founds  among 
them  a  new  mission.  The  Padre  has  now  spread  his  labors 
over  an  immense  tract  of  country,  extending  forty  leagues  up 
the  Peninsula  from  Cape  San  Lucas?,  and  embracing  the  whole 
territory  from  one  coast  to  the  other. 

The  soil  of  this  region  is  extremely  poor.  A  small  tract 
at  Aparte  on  which  the  Indians  are  enabled  to  raise  sufficient 
maize  for  sustenance,  is  all  that  can  be  cultivated.  And  be- 
sides the  physical  difficulties  incident  to  these  desolate  wastes, 
the  Padre  has  savage  poverty  and  its  inseparable  mental  de- 
gradation, to  weaken  his  hands  and  try  his  faith.  This  is  pe- 
culiarly distressing  to  the  good  Padre.  It  appears  to  him  im- 
possible to  bring  these  Indians  into  civilized  habits  of  living, 
without  the  industry  acquired  by  the  cultivation  of  the  soil. 
Notwithstanding  all  these  momentous  obstacles,  however,  (and 
few  can  appreciate  them  who  have  not  seen  the  poor  starving 
Indian  in  his  native  wilderness),  the  good  Padre's  labors  here 
are  so  efficient  and  deeply  grounded  in  the  true  philosophy  of 
love,  that  these  savages,  once  so  vindictive  and  turbulent,  are 
so  changed  as  to  stand  firm  during  all  the  subsequent  rebel- 
lions of  the  south,  and  offer  the  Padres  and  Christian  Indians, 
flying  from  the  treacherous  and  cruel  Pericues  and  Coras,  an 
affectionate  and  saiie  asylum  in  the  mission  de  los  Dolores  del 
Sur.  During  the  year  1721,  anoth  ■.  mission  endowed  b"  'he 
Marques  de  la  Puente,  has  been  founded  in  the  nation  of  the 
Toras,  near  Cape  San  Lucas,  under  Padre  Ignacia  Maria  Na- 
poii.  Padre  Ugarte,  before  embarking  on  his  survey  of  the 
gulf,  gave  direction  to  Padre  Napoli  to  wait  the  arrival  of  the 
bark  with  supplies  from  Mexico,  and  taking  whatever  he 
stood  n:  need  of  for  his  new  station,  to  proceed  in  the  bark  to 
La  Paz,  and  thence  by  land  to  the  Bay  of  Islands,  the  place 
chosen  for  his  mission.  This  vessel  arrives  in  the  middle  of 
July ;  and  on  the  twenty-first.  Padre  Napoli  embarks  with 
four  soldiers  and  Captain  Don  Estevan  Rodriguez ;  and  on 


224 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC 


I  i 


the  second  of  August,  anchors  at  La  Paz.  Padre  Napoh  is 
met  by  the  Indians  with  great  veneration.  They  conduct  him 
in  procession  to  the  church  where  Padre  Jayme  Bravo,  then 
missionary,  is  waiting  to  receive  him. 

Having  rested  from  the  toil  of  the  voyage,  the  Padre  sends 
the  suppUes  to  Palmas  Bay  in  a  boat,  while  himself  and  the 
soldiers  proceed  by  land  for  the  twofold  purpose  of  establish- 
ing some  communication  between  the  contemplated  mission 
and  La  Paz,  and  also  of  inviting  such  Indians  as  they  may 
meet  on  the  way,  to  settle  near  him  and  receive  instruction. 
During  the  eight  days  of  travelling  through  this  wilderness, 
however,  they  meet  no  natives.  The  news  of  their  approach 
has  aroused  their  sMPpicions  to  such  a  degree,  that  they  desert 
their  rancherias  ai  !  efore  the  Padres,  as  if  they  were 

come  to  curse  instead  i;i  ess  them.  On  the  twenty-fourth  of 
August  they  reach  their  place  of  destination.  Padre  Napoii 
is  suffering  extreme  pain  in  consequence  of  a  fall  from  his 
mule.  No  Indians  appear ;  the  boat  does  not  arrive ;  and  the 
Padre  therefore  is  troubled.  One  evening  Padre  Napoii  is 
walking  alone  at  some  distance  from  the  tent,  when  sui'denly 
his  ears  are  saluted  by  the  most  frightful  bowlings,  and  on 
looking  up  he  sees  a  company  of  naked  Indians  approaching 
him  with  the  most  furious  gestures.  They  are  led  by  one  of 
gigantic  stature,  painted  for  battle,  in  black  and  red,  and  par- 
tially covered  by  a  kind  of  hair  cloak.  In  one  hand  he  has  a 
fan  of  feathers,  and  in  the  other  a  bow  and  arrow.  Seve*"?! 
deer's  feet  and  other  unseemly  objects  dangle  from  a  band 
around  his  waist.  The  Padre,  concluding  that  his  time  is  now 
come  to  die,  commends  his  soul  to  mercy,  and  advances  to 
meet  the  Indians.  He  remembers  the  instructions  of  Padre 
Ugarte,  and  concealing  his  fears,  looks  them  boldly  in  the 
face,  and  even  makes  signs  of  contempt  for  their  savage  arts. 
Their  apparent  fury  is  a  little  checked  by  his  demeanor ;  and 
the  Padre  gaining  courage,  approaches  nearer  and  signifies 
by  signs  that  he  is  grieved,  but  not  frightened  by  their  inten- 
tions.    He  then  proceeds  with  great  kindness  to  distribute 


T  n  A  V  E  L  S      IN       T  H  K      C  A  L  I  F  0  R  N  I  A  S 


225 


\ 


among  them  some  trifling  presents  which  he  has  about  his 
person,  and  invites  them  to  corae  to  the  tent  and  receive  oth- 
ers.    This  treatment  produces  its  desired  effect.     They  follow 
him  to  the  tent,  where  they  are  kindly  entertained ;  and  at 
length  depart,  bearing  tokens  of  peace  to  their  friends  at  home. 
They  sr^m  much  pleased ;  but  intimate  as  they  depart  that 
they  are  afraid  of  the  mules  and  the  Padre's  dog ;  and  that 
they  ca'^inot  return,  unless  these  are  concealed  from  sight. 
This  the  Padre  signifles  shall  be  done.     The  next  day  the 
tent  is  thronged  with  little  parties,  to  the  number  of  five  hun- 
dred, bringing  such  presents  as  the  country  affords,  and  re- 
ceiving in  return  frocks  of  sackcloth,  razors,  and  beads.     This 
demonstration  cheers  the  hearts  of  the  Padre  and  soldiers. 
Still  the  boat  does  not  arrive — and  they  are  oppressed  with 
fears  lest  she  may  be  lost  with  all  their  supplies ;   for  they 
have  been  here  now  five  days.     No  tidings  of  her  have  reach- 
ed them.      They  are,  however,  looking  out  on  the  sea  at 
the  close  of  the  fifth  day,  when  she  makes  her  appearance. 
She  has  mistaken  the  place  of  rendezvous,  and  lain  four  days 
in  a  small  bay  a  few  leagues  to  the  south. 

Being  relieved  thus  from  these  several  troubles,  they  begin 
to  clear  the  ground  and  erect  the  village.  The  Indians  con- 
tinue friendly  and  aid  the  work.  But  on  a  sudden  they  all 
disappear  for  a  whole  day.  Now  again  the  heart  of  the  Pa- 
dre beats  with  anxiety.  When  and  how  will  the  Indians 
return  are  questions  which  will  arise,  but  which  no  one  can 
answer.  Toward  evening  he  determines  to  go  in  quest  of 
them  with  only  one  soldier  and  an  interpreter.  He  finds  a 
few,  and  expresses  his  regret  that  they  should  forsake  him ; 
when  they  frankly  state  the  cause  of  their  movement,  as  fol- 
lows : — They  are  at  war  with  the  Guaycuros  ;  the  Padre  is 
friendly  to  the  latter,  and  has  soldiers  and  Indians  of  that  na- 
tion with  him.  They  have  watched  their  labors  and  see  the 
walls  of  the  church  go  up.  For  what  other  purpose  could 
these  be  intended  to  answer,  than  a  warlike  one  ?  Moreover, 
the  Padre  iias  that  morning  despatched  three  Guaycuros  on  the 


T\\ 


■r ; 

ll 


226 


SCENi.S      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


open  road  to  La  Paz ;  and  the  ostensible  object  is  peaceful 
enough,  being  simply  to  drive  in  a  mule  laden  with  maize. 
Yet  they  are  suspicious  that  some  more  important  business 
lies  under  this  affair.     In  short,  they  believe  the  Guaycuros  are 
coining  to  massacre  the  whole  nation.     The  Padre  has  much 
difficulty  in  removing  this  suspicion  from  their  minds.     At 
length,  however,  he  so  far  recovers  their  confidence  that  a 
large  number  return  to  the  tent.     Others,  still  apprehensive, 
light  large  fires  and  keep  strict  watch,  that  the  supposed  ene- 
my may  not  fall  on  them  unawares.     The  night,  however, 
operates  unfavorably  on  their  feelings.     They  are  all  missing 
again  for  two  days.     They  look  upon  Padre  Bravo,  who 
speaks  the  Guaycuri  tongue,  as  the  head  and  front  of  their 
foes.     His  presence  keeps  their  fears  and  suspicions  continu- 
ally inflamed.     And  though,  when  the  mule  and  the  Guaycu- 
ros return  from  La  Paz,  they  see  that  Padre  Napoli  has  told 
them  truth,  still  they  cannot  so  far  quiet  their  fears  as  to  re- 
turn to  their  dwellings.     Thus  they  continue  between  hope 
and  fear  for  several  days.    Meantime  the  Padre  continues  his 
labors  at  the  mission ;  and  by  and  by  the  Indians,  finding 
their  fears  unfounded,  begin  to  come  in.     The  women  bring 
their  children  for  baptism,  and  the  men  offer  perpetual  friend- 
ship.   Peace  is  also  concluded  between  the  Guaycuros  and 
Coras  and  celebrated  with  the  usual  festivities. 

On  the  fourth  of  November  Padre  Napoli  baptizes  twenty- 
nine  of  their  children,  and  everything  seems  to  promise  well 
for  their  intercourse  with  the  Indians.  But  as  almost  every- 
thing which  was  brought  from  La  Paz,  even  to  the  furniture 
of  the  altar,  has  been  distributed  among  them,  and  as  the 
supply  of  provisions  is  growing  short.  Padre  Napoli  finds  it 
necessary  to  evacuate  his  post.  He  accordingly  leaves  the 
little  furniture  and  the  few  remaining  utensils  in  the  care  of 
some  of  the  oldest  and  most  faithful  of  the  savages,  and  pro- 
mising a  speedy  return,  goes  with  Padre  Bravo  and  his  men 
to  La  Paz. 

In  January  he  returns  to  his  mission,  and  finds  that  during 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       CALIFORNIAS 


227 


( 


his  absence,  a  band  of  forty  depredators,  from  a  neighboring 
island,  called  Cerralvo,  has  visited  the  mission,  and  finding 
neither  Padre  nor  guard  in  possession,  killed  six  baptized  child- 
ren, two  women  and  one  man ;  and  taking  another  prisoner, 
returned  to  their  homes.  The  Padre  is  sad  at  this  unprovoked 
barbarity  upon  his  neophytes.  But  the  Captain  of  the  guard 
is  so  enraged,  that  accompanied  by  a  small  party  of  soldiers, 
he  crosses  to  the  island  to  chastise  the  savages.  They  flee  at 
his  approach  and  hide  themselves  among  the  rocks.  He, 
however,  kills  a  sufficient  number  to  intimidate  the  living  from 
a  like  attempt  in  future,  and  returns  to  the  mission. 

The  confidence  of  the  Indian  converts  in  the  Padre,  is 
greatly  increased  by  this  punishment  of  their  enemies.     Yet 
the  Padre  does  not  think  best  to  continue  his  mission  so  far 
from  La  Paz,  whence  all  its  supplies  must  come.     According- 
ly, he  selects  a  spot  called  Santa  Anna,  situated  thirty  leagues 
from  La  Paz,  and  five  from  the  Gulf.    Here  he  builds  a 
chapel  and  small  house,  and  labors  with  much  success  for  the 
establishment  of  Christianity.     In  1723  he  builds  a  church 
farther  in  the  interior,  with  the  intention  of  making  it  the 
seat  of  his  mission.     But  an  unavoidable  accident  puts  an  end 
to  this  design.     For  when  the  church  is  so  far  finished  that 
the  beams  and  rafters  are  laid  for  the  roof,  the  Padre  is  sum- 
moned one  day  to  attend  the  deathbed  of  one  of  his  Indians. 
During  his  absence  one  of  the  terrible  tempests,  so  common 
in  Lower  California,  comes  up,  and  the  Indians  take  shelter 
in  the  unfinished  church.     The  storm  increases,  the  church  is 
prostrated,  and  several  Indians  are  buried  under  it !    Padre 
Napoli  hastens  to  the  spot,  and  does  everything  in  his  power 
for  the  relief  of  the  sufferers.    But  his  benevolent  acts  are 
misunderstood.    The  living  are  thoroughly  incensed  at  the 
death  of  their  friends,  and  begin  to  concert  schemes  to  de- 
stroy the  Padre.     Frori  this  they  are  at  length  dissuaded  by 
the  repeated  assurances  of  the  survivors,  that  they  retired  to 
the  church  of  their  own  choice,  so  that  in  time  all  becomes 
quiet  again.    The  church  is  built  and  dedicated  to  San  Jago ; 


If] 

'j_  I 

'C'l 


w 


1^ 


228 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


some  ground  cleared  and  sown  with  maize;  and  comfort  is 
slowly  increasing  among  them.  He  spends  three  years  among 
this  slothful  and  stupid  people,  during  which  time  he  baptizes 
ninety  adults,  and  about  four  hundred  children. 

The  Padres  have  now  for  many  years  sustained  a  limited 
intercourse  with  the  Cochimies  of  Tierra  de  San  Vincente. 
They  have  frequently  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  have  a  Pa- 
dre among  them  who  would  teach  them  to  become  Christians. 
But  no  opportunity  has  offered  of  founding  a  mission  in  their 
territory,  till  the  year  1727,  when  Padre  Juan  Baptiste  Luy- 
ando,  a  Mexican  Jesuit  of  fortune,  arrives  at  Loretto,  and 
offers  not  only  to  endow,  but  to  be  the  founder  of  a  mission. 
His  offers  are  gratefully  accepted  by  the  Padres.  The  seat  of 
the  mission  has  been  selected  by  Padre  Sistiaga  of  Santa  Ro- 
salia Mulege,  during  his  frequent  visits  among  the  Indians  of 
that  vicinity.  To  this  spot,  therefore.  Padre  Luyando  travels, 
accompanied  by  nine  soldiers,  in  January,  1728,  and  arrives 
on  the  twentieth  of  the  same  month.  The  natives  having 
been  expecting  a  Padre  for  some  time,  hail  his  arrival  with 
much  joy,  and  flock  to  his  tent  in  great  numbers.  Many  of 
them  are  already  acquainted  with  the  catechism,  and  nearly 
all  have  received  some  instruction  from  Padre  Sistiaga.  Pa- 
dre Luyando,  therefore,  finds  his  task  comparatively  easy. 
The  Indians  are  very  readily  persuaded  to  destroy  all  their 
im  elements  of  sorcery  and  abandon  the  foolish  and  supersti- 
tious arts  in  which  they  have  placed  their  faith.  Some  of  the 
Catechumens  return  to  their  rancherias  after  receiving  baptism, 
but  many  remain.  The  Padre  has  about  five  hundred  at  the 
mission  during  the  first  six  months.  At  the  end  of  this  time 
his  provisions  beginning  to  fail,  he  despatches  seven  of  his 
soldiers  with  letters  to  Loretto,  asking  supplies ;  meanwhile 
the  two  that  remain  together  with  the  Indians,  commence 
building  a  church,  which  is  finished  and  dedicated  on  Christ- 
mas day.  The  Padre's  heart  is  so  encouraged  by  his  success 
that  he  not  only  undert  ikes  the  instruction  of  all  who  come 


)  ) 


T  r;  A  V  i:  i,  s     i :;     the     c  a  i.  i  f  o  li  n  i  a  s 


229 


) 


to  him,  but  likewise  makes  excursions  in  search  of  new  ob- 
jects on  which  to  expend  his  labors. 

He  finds  all  his  people  docile,  kind,  vivacious,  and  active. 
Their  district  is  well  adapted  to  agriculture.     Padre  Sistiaga 
had  some  time  before  sown  maize  on  some  of  it,  which  yield- 
ed well ;  and  Padre  Helen  had  introduced  the  culture  of  gar- 
den vegetables  ;  for  all  of  which  the  Indians  have  acquired  a 
relish.     So  that  Padre  Luyando  has  little  difficulty  in  leading 
them  into  agricultural  pursuits.     He  plants  with  his  own 
hands  five  hundred  vines,  besides  olive  and  fig  trees,  sugar 
canes,  and  many  other  exotic  plants.     He  induces  the  Indians 
to  sow  considerable  quantities  of  wheat  and  maize  annually ; 
so  that  on  the  fourth  year  of  his  residence  among  them,  the 
whole  harvest  amounts  to  a  thousand  bushels  of  wheat,  and  a 
fine  quantity  of  maize  and  fruits.     He  also  persuades  them  to 
form  themselves  into  villages,  and  to  erect  adobie  and  bough- 
houses.     He  introduces  cattle,  and  makers  every  effort  to  cre- 
ate among  them  the  desires  of  civilized  lift.     And  there  is  no 
doubt  in  the  Padre's  mind,  that  the  adaptation  of  their  country 
to  the  pursuits  of  husbandry,  will  greatly  facilitate  his  wishes 
for  their  spiritual  improvement.     But  in  the  meantime  all  is 
not  as  fair  as  it  seems.     The  old  jugglers  and  priests  of  their 
former  religion,  so  lately  held  in  great  respect,  see  their  power 
and  wealth  fading  under  the  new  order  of  things,  and  them- 
selves becoming  objects  of  contempt  to  the  younger  members 
of  the  tribe.     It  is  not  in  the  nature  of  civilized  or  uncivilized 
man,  to  bear  such  a  change  with  indifference ;  and  these  men 
resolve  to  use  what  influence  they  have  left,  to  recover  their 
rank.     Accordingly  they  instigate  some  unconverted  Indians 
to  oppose  the  Padre's  lab'>rs  by  every  available  means.    On 
a  dark  night,  therefore,  eight  of  them  fall  upon  a  catechumen, 
near  the  Padre's  cottage,  and  murder  him.     After  this  outi  ag  ?, 
they  persuade  a  whole  rancheria,  at  some  distance  from  the 
mission,  to  refuse  all  intercourse  with  the  Padre.     In  this 
neighborhood,  for  two  years,  bands  of  malcontents  shelter 
themselves,  and  dissuade  the  people  from  yielding  to  any  ad- 
20 


\i\ 


230 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


I 


vances  from  the  Christians.    And  when  at  length  three  of 
its  people  are  baptized,  they  are  obliged  to  take  refuge  in 
the  house  of  the  Padre,  from  the  fury  of  their  disaffected  rela- 
tives. 

To  all  these  outrages,  the  Padre  makes  no  resistance,  and 
for  the  evil,  returns  love,  patience,  and  uniform  kindness.  In- 
deed, were  he  disposed  to  chastise  them,  he  has  not  the  power. 
His  feeble  force  would  be  useless  against  an  active,  vigilant 
and  fearless  band  of  savages.  He  therefore  betrays  no  dispo- 
sition to  punish  these  wrongs.  He  has  not  yet  learned  from 
experience,  that  undue  forbearance  is  neither  wisdom  nor  vir- 
tue. Some  of  the  wild  unconverted  Indians,  therefore,  re- 
strained by  no  fear  of  chastisement,  falling  upon  a  Christian 
rancheria,  murder  two  men  and  a  little  girl.  The  remainder 
succeed  in  escaping  to  the  mission.  The  Padre's  people  wish 
to  avenge  this  outrage,  but  he  restrains  them,  in  the  hope  that 
forbearance  may  yet  be  effectual  with  these  bad  men.  In  this 
he  is  mistaken.  The  savages  concluding,  from  the  quiet  man- 
ner in  which  he  submits  to  their  treatment,  and  also  from 
some  kind  messages  and  presents  which  the  Padre  has  sent 
them,  that  he  is  helpless  and  fearful,  are  emboldened  to  at- 
tack other  rancherias,  and  plunder  the  Christians  wherever 
they  meet  them.  These  last  outrages  awaken  in  the  Pa- 
dre a  determination  to  prevent  their  recurrence.  He  as- 
sembles his  converts  and  with  them  retires  to  Guadalupe  for 
safety.  Efi'ective  measures  are  now  taken.  Three  hundred  and 
fifty  converted  Indians  are  armed ;  and  having,  by  the  Padre'? 
permission,  elected  their  own  leader,  they  march  against  their 
foes  with  great  spirit  and  determination.  They  find  them  en- 
camped near  a  watering  place  at  the  base  of  a  mountain. 
During  the  night  they  succeed  in  surrounding  them,  and  at  day- 
break, raising  the  war  shouts,  advance  on  all  sides  upon  the 
sleeping  enemy.  Finding  themselves  thus  completely  hem- 
med in  by  a  force  greatly  superior  to  their  own,  they  lay 
down  their  arms.  Only  two  escape.  The  others,  thirty-four 
in  number,  are  taken  to  the  mission  as  prisoners. 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


231 


When  thanks  have  been  duly  returned  for  this  signal  and 
easy  victory,  a  court  is  organized  from  the  soldiers  and  In- 
dian Alcaldes,  for  the  trial  of  the  prisoners.  They  are  con- 
victed of  the  capital  crimes  of  rebellion,  robbery,  and  murder, 
and  sentenced  to  be  removed  to  Loretto  for  punishment.  They 
are  very  much  dejected  at  the  prospect  of  death.  The  Indians 
of  the  mission  are  elated  with  the  hope  of  being  permitted  to 
execute  them.  But  the  Padres  assure  the  prisoners  that  they 
shall  not  die  ;  and  reprove  the  unchristian  exultation  of  their 
people ;  instructing  them  that  ns  Christians  they  should  exer- 
cise charity  and  forgiveness  toward  all  men.  Meantime  some 
of  the  converts  are  so  gently  disposed  toward  the  prisoners 
that  they  beseerh  the  Padres  to  convene  the  court  the  next 
day,  that  the  sentence  may  be  reconsidered.  The  Indian  con- 
verts now  come  before  the  soldiers  and  Indian  Alcaldes,  beg- 
ging them  to  make  the  sentence  of  their  enemies  lighter.  Af- 
ter some  deliberation  it  is  commuted  to  a  certain  number  of 
lashes.  The  punishment  is  first  inflicted  on  the  principal  mur- 
derer. The  Padres  then  pray  that  it  may  be  confined  to  him. 
This  is  most  unwillingly  complied  with.  They  are  therefore 
deprived  of  their  arms  and  liberated. 

The  prayers  of  the  Padres  are  answered  in  the  effect  which 
this  treatment  has  upon  their  enemies.  In  a  few  months  all 
these  prisoners  have  become  catechumens.  The  victory  and 
lenity  are  of  great  service  to  the  missionaries.  The  former 
intimidates  the  unconverted  Indians,  the  latter  shows  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  precepts  of  Christianity.  Padre  Luyando, 
however,  now  finds  his  health  so  much  impaired  that  he  must 
leave  the  mission  to  recruit  his  exhausted  energies.  The  In- 
dians are  deeply  pained  at  parting  with  him.  But  his  place  is 
well  filled  by  the  kind  and  active  Padre  Sistiaga. 

The  years  1729  and  '.30  bring  heavy  misfortunes  on  the  mis- 
sions of  California,  in  the  death  of  two  of  the  oldest  and  most 
valued  laborers  among  them ;  Padre  Piccolo  and  Padre 
Ugarte.  Both  these  men  have  by  long  years  of  the  most  ardu- 
ous and  faithful  service,  woven  their  names  inseparably  with 


r 


I 


il 


232 


SCENES 


N       THE      PACIFIC 


the  history  of  California,  and  left  in  their  characters  and  lives, 
an  example  to  all  who  would  rear  the  cross  in  the  solitary  wil- 
derness. Bold,  indefatigable,  self-denying,  just,  and  true  men, 
they  were,  who  never  shrank  from  any  duty,  however  severe, 
and  were  never  swerved  by  passion  or  love  of  ease,  from  the 
line  of  action  marked  out  by  judgment,  truth  and  religious 
faith. 

Padre  Piccolo  expires  in  the  garrison  at  Loretto,  on  the 
twenty-second  of  February,  1729,  having  lived  seventy-nine 
years,  thirty-two  of  which  he  has  spent  among  the  missions 
of  California.  ^  Padre  Ugarte  follows  him  the  next  year,  hav- 
ing been  thirty  years  a  laborer  on  the  same  ground.  The  deaths 
of  these  excellent  men  are  momentous  events  in  the  missions. 
Their  great  experience,  their  uniform  kindness,  their  zeal,  tem- 
pered by  wisdom  and  sagacity,  their  unblemished  integrity, 
and  the  veneration  in  which  their  very  names  are  held  by  the 
Indians,  make  them  powerful  co-operators  with  the  young  and 
active  missionaries,  even  though  age  and  debility  forbid  them 
a  personal  participation  in  their  labors.  At  this  time,  too, 
their  presence  is  particularly  desired,  for  the  southern  na- 
tions, never  much  relied  on,  are  growing  turbulent.  The  un- 
converted among  them,  and  there  are  many  of  these  notwith- 
standing the  efforts  of  Padre  Bravo  at  La  Paz,  Padre  Napoli 
at  San  Jago,  and  Padre  Guillen  at  Dolores,  lose  no  occasion 
to  insult  and  annoy  those  who  have  embraced  the  cross. 
They  become  so  troublesome  that  in  1723,  Capt.  Rodriguez, 
with  a  company  of  soldiers,  marches  into  their  districts,  to 
intimidate  them,  and,  if  possible,  put  an  end  to  their  outbreaks. 
In  1725,  also,  he  finds  it  necessary  to  go  with  an  armed  force 
against  some  rancherias  of  Uchities  and  Guaycuros,  who  have 
been  stimulated  into  rebellion,  by  a  few  mulattoes  and  mesti- 
zoes, renegades  of  foreign  privateers,  that  have  touched  at  Cape 
San  Lucas.  These  difficulties  will  ripen  into  fearful  scenes. 
Another  attempt  is  now  made  to  found  an  establishment  at 
Palmas  bay,  the  original  seat  of  the  mission  San  Jago  de  los 
Coras.    It  is  endowed  by  the  Donna  Rosa  de  la  Penna,  cousin 


T  R  A  V  E  I-  S      IN       T  H  t       C  A  I-  1  f  0  R  N  I  A  S  . 


233 


of  the  Marquis  de  Ville  Puente.  This  individual  also  oflfers 
to  endow  a  third,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Cape  San  Lucas. 
About  this  time,  Padre  Josef  de  Echeveria,  the  Mexican  agent 
for  California,  is  appointed  by  the  papal  court,  Visitor  General 
of  the  Jesuit  missions ;  and  he  resolves  to  commence  his  visi- 
tation in  California.  Purchasing  in  Cinaloa,  therefore,  a  bark 
to  supply  the  place  of  one  that,  with  a  year's  provisions,  a  few 
weeks  before  has  been  lost,  he  embarks  at  Ahome,  and  on  the 
twenty-seventh  day  of  October,  arrives  safely  in  Loretto  bay, 
where  he  is  received  with  great  respect  and  afK.'ction  by  the 
Padres,  and  their  Indians.  Soon  after  his  arrival,  he  is  attack- 
ed with  a  most  malignant  fever.  For  many  days  his  life  is 
despaired  of,  but  he  recovers  ;  and  while  yet  very  feeble,  leaves 
the  garrison  for  the  northern  missions,  with  only  the  ensign, 
one  soldier,  and  a  few  Indians. 

The  Visitor  finds  great  cause  of  rejoicing  in  the  con- 
dition of  the  missions.  The  economy,  neatness  and  order  of 
everything  connected  with  them,  the  quiet  and  regular  con- 
duct of  the  Indian  converts,  and  their  progress  in  knowledge 
of  temporal  things,  the  patience,  kindness  and  industry  of  the 
Padres,  the  good  understanding  between  them  and  their  peo- 
ple, and  most  of  all,  the  progress  Christianity  has  made  in  the 
bosom  of  the  wilderness,  touch  the  Padre's  heart  with  the 
liveliest  joy.  In  a  letter  dated  the  tenth  of  February,  he  says, 
"  I  was  well  rewarded  for  the  fatigue  and  cold,  were  it  only 
in  seeing  the  fervor  of  these  new  Christian  establishments. 
And  the  least  I  could  do  was  to  shed  tears  of  joy  at  so  fre- 
quently hearing  God  praised  from  the  mouths  of  poor  crea- 
tures, who  very  lately  did  not  so  much  as  know  whether  there 
was  such  a  being." 

After  examining  the  missions  of  the  north,  Padre  Echeveria 
prepares  to  visit  those  of  the  south,  and  establish  the  two  mis- 
sions which  have  been  endowed  at  Palmas  bay  and  Cape  San 
Lucas.  But  death  and  ill-liealth  among  the  Padres  render  it 
impossible  to  carry  both  these  plans  into  execution.  Padre 
Segisraund  Taraval  has  been  appointed  to  the  charge  of  the 
20* 


M 


>\ 


j 


IJ  ' 


234 


SCElfES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


former,  called  Santa  Rosa,  in  honor  of  the  foundress  ;  but  does 
not  arrive.  And  it  is  determine  1,  therefore,  to  commence 
that  at  San  Lucas,  called  San  Jose  del  Cabo.  This  is  a  post 
which  requires  great  integrity,  zeal  and  address.  Padre 
Tamaral,  founder  of  the  mission  La  Purissiraa,  is  therefore 
chosen  to  fill  it.  ";  his  Padre  and  the  Visitor  General  embark 
on  the  tenth  of  March,  and  visiting  on  their  way  at  the  mis- 
sions of  La  Paz  and  San  Jago  de  los  Coras,  proceed  to  San 
Lucas,  and  finding  an  agreeable  spot  a  short  distance  from 
the  Cape,  erect  a  chapel  and  houses ;  and  though  only  about 
twenty  families  present  themselves,  the  Padre  founder  enters 
upon  his  labors.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  ^adre  Visitor  with 
his  two  soldiers  leave  the  spot,  they  come  in  great  numbeicj  to 
Padre  Tamaral,  essigning  as  a  reason  for  not  appearing 
sooner,  that  they  feared  the  Pa^'reshad  come  with  the  soldiers, 
to  punish  their  assduits  on  tl,  e  missions  of  San  Jago  and  La 
Paz.  Pndre  Tamaral  makes  a  journey  in  search  of  the 
rriiicherias  and  the  people  whom  he  is  to  teach,  and  also  of  a 
better  site  for  his  mission.  The  present  one  is  infested 
with  musquitoes  and  other  insects  ;  the  dampness  and  extreme 
heat  also  render  it  intolerable.  On  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  country,  he  determines  to  remove  the  mission  to  a 
spot  about  five  leagues  from  ihe  sea  ;  and  proceeds  at  once 
to  erect  a  chapel  and  houses  on  the  new  site.  He  labors  in- 
cessantly to  induce  the  natives  who  have  hitherto  led  wander- 
ing  lives,  to  settle  in  fixed  habitations :  and  s  >  successful  is  he, 
that  in  one  year  he  has  instructed  and  baptized  one  thousand 
and  thirty -six  souls ;  and  so  far  as  their  indolpnt  roving  cha- 
racter will  permit,  has  bdl:.ed  their  temporal  welfare. 

In  the  yc^r  3730,  Padre  Taraf^ial  undertakes  to  survey  the 
islands  which  lie  near  the  Pacific  coast.  Accompanied  by  six 
Indians,  he  sets  out  on  the  festival  of  San  Xavier,  and  after 
travelling  six  days  by  land,  reaches  one  of  the  capes  or  head- 
lands of  a  large  bay,  which  he  calls  San  Xavier.  From  this 
point  they  see  two  islands,  lying  some  seven  or  eight  leagues 
from  the  coasl,  which  they  determine  to  visit.    Accordingly, 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS, 


235 


' 


'^y. 


having  constructed  a  raft  of  timber,  they  piss  over  to  the 
nearest  one,  and  find  it  a  &mall  desert,  not  more  than  half  a 
mile  in  length,  and  less  in  width.  It  is  a  bank  of  dry  sand, 
with  neither  a  drop  of  water,  nor  a  leaf  of  verdure  upon  it. 
It  is  called  by  the  Indians  Asegua,  on  account  of  the  immense 
flocks  of  birds  which  frequent  it.  Among  these  is  a  small  jet 
bMck  bird,  something  larger  than  a  sparrow,  which  burrows 
in  the  sand,  and  makes  its  nest  some  four  feet  below  the  sur- 
face, retiring  to  it  at  night  only,  and  living  all  day  in  the  sea. 
There  is  another  bird  quite  unlike  any  knoAvn  to  the  Padre. 
It  is  about  the  size  of  a  goose,  with  black  wings,  a  snowy 
breast,  uiiJ  light-colored  feet,  and  a  beak  like  the  carnivora. 
This  also  makes  its  nest  three  or  four  feet  below  the  surface 
It  is  a  lover  of  storm  and  tempest,  and  never  retires  to  its  nest 
except  when  the  sea  is  calm.  These  birds  are  hunted  by  the 
Indians  for  food.  About  four  or  five  leagues  distant  from  this 
island,  lies  another,  called  by  the  Indians  Amalgua,  or  fog 
island.  It  is  several  leagues  in  circumft.unce,  and  of  a  tri- 
angular form.  In  its  midst  rises  a  conical  mountain  of  con- 
siderable height.  It  has  several  fresh-water  springs ;  but  no 
anchorage  protected  from  the  sea.  Deer  and  rabbits  live 
upon  it.  Among  the  latter  is  a  small  black  specie"  with  fur 
finer  than  that  of  the  beaver.  It  is  frequented  by  a  variety 
of  birds,  and  sea-wolves,  on  which  its  inhabitants  chiefly  sub- 
sist. They  find  also  a  fruit  here  called  mexcahs,  which  is 
juicy  and  very  pleasant.  A  variety  of  beautiful  shells  lie  on 
the  shore  ;  some  of  an  exquisite  azure  hue.  From  the  top  of 
the  mountain  on  this  island,  the  explorers  have  a  view  of 
two  other  small  ones,  eight  or  ten  leagues  to  the  westward. 
There  are  also  in  the  bny  of  San  Xavier  thr.^e  other  small 
islands,  whivih  are  frequented  by  the  sea-wolf  and  beaver. 
Farther  northward  they  discover  others,  which  they  conjecture 
to  be  those  that  form  the  channel  of  Santa  Barbara.  They 
can  obtain  no  information  respecting  these  latter  from  the 
people  of  Amalgua.    For  ihey  inform  the  Padre  that  their 


'4^ 


236 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


I.; 


'\     1. 


sorcerers  have  prohibited  them  all  intercourse  with  their  in- 
habitants, and  even  the  privilege  of  looking  toward  them. 
The  Padre  finds  no  difficulty  in  persuading  the  people  of 
Amalgua  to  accompany  him  to  the  mission.  The  only  oppo- 
sition arises  from  an  old  sorcerer.  But  his  influence  effects 
nothing.  Even  his  own  wife  proposes  to  leave  him  if  he  will 
not  go  with  them.  And  he  also  finally  consents.  They  em- 
bark, therefore,  on  their  raft  foi  the  coast ;  but  are  obliged  to 
seek  shelter  from  a  storm,  on  the  desert  island  of  Asegua,  and 
remain  there  several  days.  With  the  return  of  fair  weather, 
they  put  off  again  for  the  continent.  As  they  are  floating 
along  close  in  shore,  they  discover  some  sea-wolves  disporting 
themselves  on  a  sand  bank ;  and  the  sorcerer,  anxious  to  vent 
his  ill-humor  upon  something,  and  being  a  dexterous  swim- 
mer, plunges  into  the  water  for  the  purpose  of  killing  one  of 
the  animals.  They  all  flee  at  his  approach ;  but  in  attempt- 
ing to  return  to  the  raft  he  is  seized,  in  sight  of  the  whole 
company,  by  an  enormous  shark !  By  some  extraordinary 
feat,  however,  he  clears  himself;  and,  not  satisfied  with  this, 
throws  the  blood,  which  issues  from  his  wounds,  at  the  hun- 
gry fish !  He  is  seized  a  second  time  with  a  hold  not  so 
shaken  off.  The  exasperated  fish  goes  down  with  him ;  and 
no  trace  of  his  existence  is  left,  except  a  faint  red  tinge  which 
slowly  rises,  and  fades  into  the  deep  green  of  the  sea  ! 

Padre  Taraval  now  receives  orders  from  the  Visitor  General 
to  proceed  at  once  to  the  erection  of  his  new  mission  among 
the  Coras,  at  Palmas  bay.  It  is  particularly  desirable  that  it 
shall  go  into  early  operation.  For  the  continual  presence  of 
the  Padres  is  indispensable  to  keep  these  turbulent  and 
deceitful  people  in  subordination.  All  preparation  being 
therefore  speedily  made,  Padre  Taraval  travels  from  Loretto 
to  the  bay  of  La  Paz,  thence  to  the  mission  of  San  Jago, 
at  Palmas  bay,  and  founds  his  mission  on  the  old  site 
of  San  Jago.  He  finds  his  people  somewhat  advanced 
by  the  former  efforts  of  Padre  Napoli,  and  the  visits  which 
they  have  received  from  Padres    Carranco  and    Tamaral. 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


237 


Nevertheless,  he  meets  with  so  much  violent  opposition,  that  it 
requires  all  his  address  to  advance  his  objects  in  such  manner 
as  not  to  arouse  these  Indians'  malevolence.  But  he  succeeds, 
not  only  in  bringing  a  great  part  of  the  unconverted  to  s^ek. 
baptism,  but  also  in  winning  their  confidence  and  affection  to 
such  a  degree,  that  at  a  future  period  they  save  his  life  at  the 
risk  of  their  own. 


I 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

A  Rebellion  attempted — Arrival  from  the  Seas. — The  Sick — Depart- 
ure— Disaffection  among  the  Indians — Insurrection — Fearful  Times 
— Martyrdom  of  Padres  Carranco  and  Taraaral — All  the  Missions 
in  a  State  of  Revolt  -The  Padres  retire  to  Loretto — Aid  denied  by 
the  Viceroy — It  comes  from  the  Indians  themselves — The  Missions 
in  the  North  send  Delegates  to  the  Padres — Peace  made  and  Padres 
resume  their  Labors — Southern  Missions  recovered — Indians  reduced 
to  Subjection — Condition  of  the  ConqucFt  in  1745. 

Meantime,  in  the  winter  of  1733-4,  some  signs  of  revolt 
have  appeared  m  the  missions  San  Jago  ant'  '^;iti  Josef.  The 
chief,  called  Boton,  the  offspring  of  an  Indian  ind  a  negro,  a 
most  profligate  mulatto,  who  has  been  reproved  by  thr  Padre 
Carranco,  for  some  of  his  excesses,  and  afterward  conlinuing 
in  the  same  practices,  has  been  punished  publicly,  a!'ies  him- 
self with  another  mulatto,  named  Chicori,  belonging  to  the 
mission  San  Josef,  whom  the  Padre  has  also  chidden  on  ac- 
count of  similar  vices.  These  miserable  men  seek  revenge. 
Accordingly  they  excite  the  unfriendly  Indians  in  every  possi- 
ble way  to  an  outbreak  at  San  Jago.  Padre  Taraaral  hearing 
of  this,  and  unsuspicious  that  the  like  is  growing  in  his  own 
mission,  hastens  to  San  Jago  to  assist  Padre  Carranco  in 
quelling  the  difficulties.    Boton  being  absent  when  he  ar- 


r- 


238 


SCENES       IN       THE       PACIFIC 


rives,  little  disposition  exists  among  the  Indians  to  persist ;  and 
Padre  Tamaral  proposes  to  return  to  his  own  mission.  But 
he  is  informed  by  a  friendly  Indian  that  Boton  and  Chicori, 
witk  two  bodies  of  men,  are  stationed  on  his  route,  to  kill 
him.  Being  satiified  of  the  truth  of  this  report  by  men  dis- 
patched to  reconrioitre,  the  Padre  sends  to  his  catechumens  at 
San  Josef,  to  arm  themselves  and  go  in  quest  of  the  enemy. 
These,  faithful  to  their  teacher,  put  them  to  flight,  burn  their 
dwellings,  and  escort  the  Padre  home  in  peace  and  triumph. 
The  leaders  of  the  rebellion  now  come  in,  and  beg  for  peace. 
It  is  concluded  in  1734,  with  the  great  rejoicings  of  both 
parties.  When  all  is  settled,  the  Indians  confess  their  inten- 
tion to  have  murdered  all  the  missionaries  in  the  country. 
A  few  days  after  this,  some  Indians  who  have  been  fishing  off' 
Cape  San  Lucas,  come  running  to  the  mission  with  much  joy 
and  wonder  expressed  in  their  countenances,  and  inform  the 
Padre  that  a  large  ship  is  near  the  Cape,  standing  directly 
toward  the  bay  San  Barnabe.  The  Padre  sends  a  young  man 
of  Loretto  to  ascertain  what  this  report  means,  and  soon 
learns  that  a  Philippine  galleon  has  come  to  anchor  in  the 
bay,  and  has  sent  a  party  of  armed  men  ashore  for  water.  The 
mariners  of  this  vessel  are  much  rejoiced  to  hear  that  a  mission 
has  been  erected  in  the  neighborhood  j  and  ii..iiii  the  good 
Padre  that,  besides  their  want  of  water,  they  are  so  dreadfully 
afflicted  with  the  scurvy  that  they  require  his  kindest  atten- 
tions. The  Padre,  therefore,  orders  his  Indians  to  collect 
fresh  acid  fruits  and  convey  them  on  board.  At  the  same 
time  he  directs  the  greatest  part  of  the  cattle  to  be  driven 
down  for  the  use  of  the  afflicted  mariners,  encourages  the 
Indians  to  assist  them  in  filling  tlieir  water  vessels,  and  other- 
wise shows  them  every  attention  within  his  power  to  bestow. 
Under  such  treatment,  all  the  sick  speedily  recover,  except 
three.  These  are  more  diseased  than  the  others ;  and  ac- 
cordingly, when  the  ship  is  ready  to  sail,  they  are  invited  to 
remain  at  the  mission.  Their  names  are,  Don  Josef  Francisco 
de  Baytos,  Captain  of  Marines,  Don  Antonio  de  Herrera, 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


239 


boatswain,  and  the  Most  Rev.  Domingo  de  Horbigoso,  of  the 
order  of  San  Augustine.  They  are  commended  to  Padre 
Tamaral,  by  Captain  Don  Geronimo  Montero,  and  the  Padre 
Commissary,  Matthias  de  Ibarra.  The  Captain  informs  Padre 
Tamaral  that  the  galleon  will  always  put  in  here  for  wattr 
"nd  the  recovery  of  the  sick ;  and  desires  that  a  supply  of 
cattle  may  be  kept  on  hand  for  them.  This  the  Padre  pro- 
mises, and  the  galleon  weighs  anchor  for  Acapulco. 

The  Padre  takes  his  three  patients  tc  the  mission,  and  de- 
votes his  tenderest  skill  and  assiduity  to  their  recovery.  Every 
luxury  or  delicacy  the  region  affords  is  kept  exclusively 
for  their  comfort.  He  sends  to  the  neighboring  missions  for 
tie  best  of  their  stores,  gives  them  his  own  food  to  eat.  In 
a  word,  he  spares  no  self-denial  or  care  for  their  benefit ;  and 
has  the  pleasiu:e  of  seeing  them  all  recover.  But  the  boat- 
swain is  attacked  by  another  disease,  which  proves  fatal,  and 
is  buried  with  proper  solemnity,  in  the  little  church.  In  the 
following  April,  Captain  Baytos  and  Padre  Horbigoso,  being 
entirely  recovered,  leave  San  Josef  for  Mexico,  in  a  vessel 
which  his  come  up  from  La  Paz  for  that  purpose. 

Yii'i  Padre  missionaries  continue  their  labors ;  patiently 
hoping  that  these  miserable  Indians  will,  in  time,  come  to 
such  a  state  of  comfort  as  shall,  in  some  measure,  compensate 
them  for  th^ir  efforts.  In  the  summer  of  1734,  Padre  Gordon, 
of  La  Paz,  goes  to  Loretto  to  hasten  the  supplies  for  his  own 
and  the  other  missions  of  the  south.  Don  Manuel  Andres 
Romero,  who  superintends  the  mission  during  his  absence, 
discovers  some  disaffection  among  the  Indians.  It  seems, 
however,  easily  allayed.  They  appear  happy  and  tranquil. 
But  und»  r  this  appearance,  a  most  sanguinary  spirit  is  at 
work !  The  Indians  are  becoming  weary  of  the  restraint  im- 
posed on  their  beastly  propensities  by  the  presence  and  rule 
of  the  Padres.  The  greatest  trial,  is  the  abrogation  of  their 
old  laws,  permitting  polygamy.  They  are  also  prevented 
from  entering  into  those  bloody  wars  which  have  so  long  been 
their  principal  pastime ;  and  from  seeking  revenge  on  those 


I*    ) 

h  i 


240 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


I' 


who  injure  them.  Altogether,  the  restraint  of  Christianity, 
the  personal  malignity  of  Boton  and  Chicori,  and  the  de- 
fenceless state  of  the  missions,  encoi  ^ge  these  ignorant  sava- 
ges to  attempt  a  revolt  and  the  butchery  of  those  whom  they 
esteem  their  oppressors.  It  must  not  be  understood  that  there 
are  none  among  the  converted  to  oppose  so  wicked  a  step,  and 
abide  by  their  spiritual  fathers  through  all  the  troubles  which 
follow.  On  the  contrary,  large  numbers  feel  the  deepest 
grief  and  shame  at  the  conduct  of  their  countiymen.  But 
only  a  small  portion  of  all  the  natives  have  ever  professed 
Christianity.  So  that  if  none  of  these  are  unfaithful,  the  ma- 
jority will  be  greatly  in  favor  of  the  rebels. 

The  insurgents  find  some  difficulty  in  concocting  their  plans. 
Their  only  fear  is  lest  the  arms  of  the  soldiers  shall  do  better 
execution  than  their  own.  And  although  among  the  four 
missions  of  Santa  Rosa,  La  Paz,  San  Jago  and  San  Josef, 
there  are  but  seven,  two  of  whom  are  invalids,  they  turn  their 
first  attention  to  disposing  of  them.  The  first  act  of  violence, 
therefore,  is  the  murder  of  one  of  Padre  Taraval's  soldiers, 
whom  they  fall  upon  when  alone  and  unarmed,  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  mission.  They  next  repair  to  the  Padre,  and 
inform  him  that  this  man  is  suddenly  taken  very  ill  in  the 
woods,  and  desires  him  to  come  to  his  relief.  The  Padre, 
having  received  some  vague  hints  of  the  rising  *  difficulties, 
suspects  that  all  is  not  right ;  and  on  questioning  them  closely, 
concludes  from  their  confused  manner,  that  they  have  mur- 
dered the  man,  and  intend  to  draw  him  from  the  house  alone 
for  the  same  bloody  purpose.  He  therefore  declines  going 
or  sending  a  second  soldier ;  but  does  not  in  any  other  way 
show  suspicion  or  fear.  In  a  few  days  this  murder  is  follow- 
ed by  that  of  Don  Andres  Romero,  at  La  Paz.  This  remains 
some  time  a  secret  among  the  perpetrators ',  so  that  they  are 
encouraged  by  these  successes  to  more  open  demonstrations 
in  the  district  of  San  Jago ;  all  which  the  Padre,  from  his 
defenceless  condition  and  his  desire  to  avoid  provoking  the 
Indians,  suffers  to  pass  without  notice. 


J 


'M 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


241 


About  this  time  Padia  Tamaral  is  attacked  vt'ith.  a  danger- 
ous disease ;  and  being  alone  with  the  Indians  of  his  mission, 
he  sends  for  a  soldier  from  Loretto  to  act  as  guard,  nurse  and 
physician.    This  soldier,  after  his  arrival  at  San  Jago,  be- 
comes convinced  that  danger  broods  among  the  savages.    He 
communicates  his  thoughts  to  Padre  Tamaral,  and  offers  to 
carry  him  to  La  Paz.    But  the  latter  thinks  his  fear  magni- 
fies the  danger,  and  refuses  to  go.     The  soldier  declares  he 
will  not  stay  there  to  die  at  the  hands  of  bloodthirsty  In- 
dians ;  but  he  cannot  prevail  upon  the  Padre  to  accompany 
him.    He  leaves  him,  therefore,  and  goes  directly  to  La  Paz. 
As  usual,  on  his  arrival,  he  fires  his  musket  at  a  certain  dis- 
tance from  the  mission,  to  give  notice  of  his  approach.    But 
no  answer  is  made.     He  walks  up  to  the  house.    All  is  silent 
and  solitary  as  the  tomb  !    A  rifled  portmanteau,  some  broken 
utensils  and  furniture,  and  some  drops  of  blood  on  the  floor, 
tell  a  story  which  thrills  the  breast  of  the  solitary  man !    He 
hastens  on  to  Dolores,  a  distance  of  sixty  leagues,  through  a 
wilderness;  a  long  road  for  a  single  man,  whe).  death  lurks 
under  every  bush  and  tree !    He  arrives  safely,  however,  and 
immediately  acquaints  Padre  Guillen  with  the  state  of  affairs 
below.     The  Padre  immediately  sends  instructions  to  his 
brother  to  withdraw  to  Dolores.     But  close  upon  the  heels 
of  the  previous  tidings,  follow  letters  from  Padre  Carranco, 
informing  him  of  an  insurrection  among  the  Pericues,  and  re- 
questing instructions  how  to  proceed.    Orders  are  therefore 
dispatched  for  all  to  repair  to  La  Paz,  whither  he  sends  a 
canoe  and  seventeen  faithful  Indians,  to  bring  them  to  Dolores. 
But  the  letters  never  reach  the  hands  for  which  they  are 
written !    At  the  same  time  Padre  Carranco  sends  a  body  of 
Christian  Indians  to  Padre  Tamaral  at  San  Josef,  entreating 
that  he  will  permit  them  to  escort  him  to  his  mission  for 
safety   and  counsel.    The  Padre  replies,  that  no  signs  of 
danger  have  appeared  in  his  mission;  that  he  thinks  fear 
augments  small  things  to  great ;  that  he  trusts  in  God,  whom 
he  desires  to  serve  in  Ufe  and  death ;  and  does  not  think  his 
21 


i 


242 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


In  ': 
m  -I 


I  ■■' 


i"  !► 


Hi 


condition  such  as  to  justify  him  in  forsaking  his  mission. 
The  Indians  who  have  been  sent  for  him,  on  their  return 
fall  in  with  a  party  of  rebels,  and  inform  them  that  Padre 
Carranco  is  made  acquainted  with  all  their  plans  by  the  boy 
who  lives  in  his  house.  They  therefore  change  their  design 
of  falling  upon  Padre  Tamaral.  It  is  deemed  more  important 
to  cut  off  Padre  Carranco,  in  order  to  prevent  his  giving  in- 
formation of  their  purposes,  or  calling  aid  from  other  missions. 
They  communicate  their  plans  to  some  of  the  converted  In- 
dians of  San  Jago,  and  with  menaces  and  warnings,  invite 
them  to  join  their  party.  After  some  wavering  they  do  so ; 
and  the  whole  body  moves  toward  the  mission  to  take  the  life 
of  their  best  friend  and  benefactor.  They  reach  it  between 
six  and  seven  in  the  morning,  on  Friday,  the  first  of  October, 
1734  X 

The  good  Padre  has  just  left  the  chapel  after  Mass,  and  is 
engaged  at  his  private  devotions  in  his  own  chamber.  They 
first  inquire  for  the  two  mestizos,  or  half-breeds,  who  act  as 
the  Padre's  guard ;  and  are  informed  that  they  have  gone,  by 
his  order,  to  drive  in  two  animals  for  the  use  of  the  mission. 
These  then  are  not  in  the  house  to  fire  upon  them.  Never- 
theless, conscious  of  criminal  intentions,  they  keep  at  a  safe 
distance  and  send  in  messengers,  with  the  •  .  of  Padre 
Tamaral.  Padre  Carranco  is  on  his  knees  praying,  when 
they  enter.  But  he  rises  and  receives  them  .Jectionately ; 
expresses  his  surprise  that  Padre  Tamaral  is  not  come  with 
them  ;  and  asks  if  they  bring  no  letter  1  They  say  "  yes," 
and  give  it  to  him.  The  Padre  begins  to  read  j  and  when 
absorbed  in  its  contents,  the  whole  body  of  conspirators  rush 
tumultuously  into  the  house.  Two  of  them  seize  and  drag 
him  out  between  the  house  and  the  church,  and  there  hold 
him  by  the  gown,  while  others  stab  him  through  the  body 
with  arrows!  And  while  his  blood  flows  from  the  wounds, 
the  dying  Padre  offers  most  earnest  prayer  to  God  that  He 
will  accept  this  sacrifice  of  his  Hfe,  for  his  own  sins  and  those 
of  his  deluded  Indians ! 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS, 


243 


( 


After  the  wretches  see  that  the  Padre's  life  is  far  speni, 
they  whip  him  with  sticks,  and  bruise  him  with  stones !  His 
last  word  is  a  prayer  for  his  murderers  !  Meantime  one  of 
them  sees  the  boy  who  waited  on  the  Padre,  crying  bitterly 
at  the  death  of  the  good  man,  and  says  to  him,  "  Why  do  you 
cry  1  Go  now,  and  tell  the  Padre  what  is  doing  in  the  ran- 
cherias !"  Another  adds  scornfully,  "  as  he  loved  the  Padre, 
it  is  but  reasonable  he  should  go  and  keep  him  company  j'* 
and  taking  him  by  the  feet,  they  dash  out  his  brains  upon  the 
floor  and  walls  of  the  house,  and  cast  him  into  the  place 
where  others  are  beating  and  stoning  the  cold  body  of  the 
good  old  Carranco. 

The  uproar  of  these  infernal  proceedings  brings  together 
Indians  of  all  ages  and  sexes.  Some  are  indignant  at  such 
inhumanity ;  but  dare  not  interpose  to  stop  its  progress.  For 
among  the  murderers  are  some  of  the  principal  converts, 
even  those  who  have  been  sent  to  escort  Padre  Tamaral  from 
San  Josef  J  the  very  men  who  joined  thf?  Padre  in  his  morning 
devotions,  are  now  sharing  the  rancor  and  fury  of  others 
against  him.  Some  are  heaping  wood  together  to  burn  him ; 
others  are  dragging  his  bloody  and  disfigured  body,  bristling 
with  arrows,  and  still  manifesting  figns  of  life,  toward  the 
flaming  pile !  Here  they  strip  him,  not  so  much  for  the  sake 
of  his  raiment,  as  to  heap  their  execrable  insults  upon  the 
naked  body  of  him  who  dared  to  reprove  their  infamous 
bestialities !  The  shocking  enormities  practised  upon  his 
corpse,  their  revolting  scurrility  and  lewdness  while  tramjiing, 
shouting,  ai  ^  '  ^ring  over  his  remains,  must  not  be  written. 
These,  and  i  aer  parts  of  this  terrible  tragedy,  show  that  the 
new  doctrine  of  chastity  and  other  Christian  laws  connected 
with  the  wedded  state,  particularly  that  which  forbids  a  plural- 
ity of  wives,  are  the  chief  causes  of  this  malignity  and  murder ! 

And  now,  amid  savage  shouts,  outrages  and  dancings, 
lasciviousness,  shocking  pollutions  and  execrations,  hey  raise 
upon  their  shoulders  the  body  of  the  venerable  Lorenzo  Car- 
ranco and  his  little  servant,  and  tumble  them  together  upon 


r 


i 


il; 


244 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


!i 


iliil 
ti 


i     ^    I 


I 


l> 


the  funeral  pile  !  They  next  proceed  to  pillage  the  house 
and  church !  The  clothing  and  such  furniture  as  they  can  use 
they  keep.  The  crucifixes,  the  statues  of  saints,  the  altars, 
the  chalice,  the  missal,  and  other  things  used  in  worship,  they 
heap  upon  the  burning  body  of  the  Padre.  Amidst  the 
wild  exultations  which  accompany  this  act  of  contempt 
toward  the  religion  of  their  murdered  friend,  the  two  domes- 
tics of  the  Padre  come  with  the  mules.  Around  these,  as 
fresh  objects  of  a  fury  not  yet  exhausted,  they  gather,  and 
bid  them  kill  the  animals.  No  sooner  have  they  done  it, 
than  the  demon  crowd  pour  a  shower  of  arrows  into  them, 
and  while  still  shrieking  in  the  agonies  of  death,  throw  them 
upon  the  burning  pile. 

After  perpetrating  these  cruelties  at  San  Jago,  the  murderers 
go  toward  the  mission  of  San  Josef.  Their  number  is  now 
greatly  increased.  The  disaffected  from  all  the  southern  parts  of 
the  peninsula,  with  many  of  the  well-disposed  who  have  joined 
them  to  save  their  own  lives,  are  gathered  together.  This 
company  now  approach  San  Josef.  It  is  the  Sabbath.  Pa- 
dre Tamaral's  prayers  for  his  poor  benighted  flock  have  been 
ofTered  at  dawn.  It  is  now  eight  o'clock.  He  is  sitting  in 
his  house,  meditating  on  the  means  of  extending  his  useful- 
ness to  these  wretched  Californians,  when  a  party  of  the 
seditious,  consisting  chicfiy  of  the  Indians  of  his  own  mission, 
break  in  upon  him,  all  demanding  something,  in  order  that, 
being  refused,  they  may  have  a  cause  of  quarrel  with  him. 
Perceiving  their  design,  however,  the  Padre  replies  mildly, 
"  stay,  my  children,  there  is  enough  in  the  house  to  content 
you  all."  Being  thus  disappointed  in  getting  a  pretence  for 
resentment,  and  not  waiting  even  to  contrive  any  other  ex- 
cuse, the  very  men  who  killed  the  Padre  at  San  Jago,  beat 
Padre  Tamaral  to  the  ground,  drag  him  by  the  feet  out  of  the 
house,  and  shoot  arrows  into  his  body.  After  this,  the  multi- 
tude rush  up  and  demand  that  his  throat  shall  be  cut  with  the 
knife  which  he  was  accustomed  to  use  in  giving  them  food. 
This  good  man,  like  his  brother  martyr,  pray:  lOr  his  mur- 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


245 


derers  !  A  villain  approaches  him  with  the  knife.  He  im- 
plores God  to  save  the  soul  of  him  who  is  about  to  slay 
him !  The  fatal  blow  is  struck  !  The  dying  man  commends 
himself  and  his  sinning  flock  to  the  Great  Shepherd  of  the 
human  race,  and  while  uttering  the  name  of  the  Saviour,  ex- 
pires !  They  practise  more  abominable  insults  upon  the  body 
of  Padre  Tamaral  than  they  have  upon  that  of  Padre  Carranco. 
And  now  being  relieved  from  the  fear  of  their  victims,  a 
great  multitude  of  all  ages  assemble,  and,  for  many  days,  cele- 
brate their  villanies  with  that  most  brutish  licentiousness 
with  which,  in  the  time  of  their  infidelity,  they  used  to 
solemnize  their  victories  ! 

The  delay  occasioned  by  these  infernal  orgies  saves  the 
life  of  Padre  Taraval  at  Todos  Santos.  A  boy  belonging  to 
this  village  happens  to  be  in  San  Jago  on  the  day  of  Padre 
Carranco's  murder ;  and  while  the  rebels  go  to  San  Josef,  he 
hastens  home  and  relates  what  he  has  seen  to  an  old  man  of 
his  rancheria,  who  immediately  induces  him  to  tell  the  Padre. 
This  old  man  offers  to  convey  the  Padre  to  a  neighboring 
island,  and  with  his  friends,  die,  if  need  be,  in  his  defence  j 
but  thinks  it  out  of  their  power  to  protect  him  at  the  mission. 
While  they  are  counselling,  the  boy's  narrative  is  confirmed 
by  the  arrival  of  some  Indians  belonging  to  Santa  Rosa,  who 
have  witnessed  Padre  Taraaral's  martyrdom.  There  is  now  no 
more  hesitation.  To  stay  will  be  madness ;  nay,  a  suicide, 
which  can  answer  no  good  purpose,  since  the  Padre's  presence 
can  protect  no  one  else.  Indeed,  there  is  little  if  any  danger 
to  others.  For  they  only  desire  to  destroy  the  Padres,  that 
they  may  enjoy  all  the  savage  liberty  of  butchery  and  vice, 
which  they  exercised  before  these  men  came  among  them. 
On  the  night  of  the  fourth  of  October,  therefore,  Padre  Taraval 
taking  with  him,  from  Todos  Santos,  the  furniture  of  the  altar, 
repairs  to  the  bay  of  La  Paz,  and  taking  all  the  ornaments 
and  consecrated  utensils  of  the  mission  at  this  place,  goes 
on  board  the  boat  which  Padre  Guillen  has  sent  in  compli- 
ance with  Padre  Carranco's  request,  and  sails  for  the  Island 
21* 


\''a 


i 


fSl 


I 


346 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


M|:i^ 


l! 


^li!  ,• 


del  Spiritu  Santo,  where  he  fortunately  meets  another  boat 
with  provisions  and  guards  from  Loretto.  With  these  the 
good  man  hastens  to  Dolores,  in  order  to  prevent  the  savages 
from  executing  their  bloody  ntentions  against  Padre  Guillen. 
He  arrives  safely,  and  finds  the  good  Padre  overwhelmed  with 
sorrow  at  the  fate  of  the  beloved  Carranco.  But  his  grief 
knows  no  bound  when  he  learns  that  Padre  Tamaral  has 
fallen  in  the  same  manner,  and  that  the  P  ur  missions  of  San 
Jago,  San  Josef,  Santa  Rosa  and  El  Pilai  de  la  Paz,  are  ut- 
terly ruined. 

While  this  melancholy  conference  is  being  held,  the  insur- 
gents, flushed  with  success,  repair  to  the  village  of  Todos  San- 
tos, whence  Padre  Taraval  has  just  fled.  Their  rage  is  ex- 
treme when  they  find  their  intended  victim  escaped ;  they  vent 
their  disappointment  on  the  Christian  Indians  in  the  neigh- 
borhood.   Twenty-seven  of  these  are  killed.    The  rest  flee  I 

Having  now  no  common  enemy  against  whom  to  direct 
their  hatred,  they  fall  into  quarrels  among  themselves,  and 
practise  against  each  other  the  same  treachery  and  cruelty 
they  have  shown  the  Padres  and  Christian  Indians ! 

Meantime,  Padre  Guillen,  as  superior  of  California,  on  the 
first  knowledge  of  these  outrages,  writes  to  the  Viceroy  of 
Mexico,  informing  him  of  their  losses,  and  the  danger 
which  threatens  them,  and  begging  immediate  measures 
may  be  taken  to  repair  the  one  and  remove  the  other. 
But  his  Excellency  estimates  life  and  missionary  effort  in 
California  too  lightly,  to  trouble  himself  much  with  the  good 
Padre's  complaints.  He  writes  that  he  is  sensible  of  the  dan- 
gers to  which  they  Eire  exposed,  and  also  of  the  great  impor- 
tance of  the  missions  to  religion  and  the  King ;  and  that  he 
will,  with  pleasure,  concur  with  the  Padres  in  any  state- 
ment which  they  shall  judge  proper  to  be  made  to  their  sove- 
reign in  respect  to  them ;  and  will  use  his  utmost  interest  with 
his  Majesty,  for  the  adoption  of  such  measures  as  shall  tend 
to  promote  their  prosperity.  He  adds,  that  if  he  can  obtain  a 
warrant  from  his  Majesty  to  aid  them,  he  will  execute  it  in  its 


r" 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIF0RNIA8. 


247 


) 


full  extent.  In  short,  the  Viceroy,  like  many  modern  politi- 
cians and  placemen,  says  much  that  is  extremely  flattering  to 
the  general  cause  of  missions,  and  of  the  faithfulness  and 
assiduity  of  these  missionaries  in  particular,  but  does  not  raise 
a  hand  to  turn  the  assassin's  knife  from  their  throats. 

In  the  meantime,  as  the  rebellion  increases,  and  some  signs 
of  violence  appear  at  Dolores,  the  captain  of  the  garrison  at 
Loretto  repairs  thither  "with  some  soldiers.  He  finds  Padre 
Taraval,  from  whom  he  learns  the  cruel  murders  that  have 
been  committed  at  San  Jago  and  Josef.  But  as  the  Indians 
are  emboldened  by  then-  successes,  and  his  band  is  very  small,  he 
thinks  it  prudent  to  remain  at  Dolores,  and  by  preserving  order 
there,  prevent,  if  possible,  the  flame  from  spreading  to  the  north- 
ern tribes.  But  notwithstanding  all  his  precautions,  the  evil 
tidings  go  forth.  As  if  the  winds  of  heaven  served  the  wick- 
ed purposes  of  the  enemy,  they  spread  in  an  incredibly  short 
space  of  time  from  Cape  San  Lucas  to  San  Ignacio,  a  dis- 
tance of  more  than  two  hundred  leagues,  and  infect  the  com- 
mon Indians  to  an  alarming  extent.  But  the  chiefs  of  the 
tribes  remain  firm,  and  keep  the  Padres  informed  of  the  de- 
signs entertained  by  their  people.  They  also  beg  to  be  par- 
ticipants in  any  measures  for  protection  which  may  be  devised. 

Padre  Guillen  finding  affairs  grow  more  and  more  despe- 
rate, and  no  assistance  adequate  to  the  emergency  offering 
itself,  issues  orders  early  in  the  year  1735,  for  all  the  mis- 
sionaries to  repair  to  Loretto,  and  put  themselves  under  the 
protection  of  the  garrison.  These  orders  happily  are  acted 
on  without  the  knowledge  of  the  rebels,  till  the  Padres  are 
beyond  their  reach.  Padre  Guillen  once  more  addresses  the 
Viceroy,  informing  him  that  all  the  missions  are  forsaken,  and 
that  they  are  still  in  imminent  danger,  even  at  Loretto— for 
the  garrison  is  too  weak  to  contend  successfully  with  such  a 
body  of  savages  as  may  be  brought  against  it,  should  there, 
as  they  anticipate,  be  a  general  rising  among  the  tribes. 

These  dispatches  are  sent  to  the  river  Yaqui,  in  Senora, 
and  thence  by  Indian  converts  to  Mexico.    They  arrive  on 


■^^-■■i*"^' 


If 


248 


SCENLS      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


the  thirteenth  of  April,  1735,  and  the  Provincia'i  of  New 
Spain  immediately  delivers  them  to  the  Viceroy.  But  though 
he  u/ges  attention  to  them  in  two  memorials,  praying  him  to 
consider  the  immediate  danger  of  the  Padres,  the  man  of  au- 
thority refuses  to  do  anything  in  tiie  premises.  The  Provin- 
cial has  recourse  to  his  Majesty.  A  ship  being  hen  ready  to 
sail  for  Madrid,  he  forwards  to  Padre  Caspar  Rod  ^ro,  agent 
general  at  court  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  for  the  li  kin  Pro- 
vinces, who  lays  it  before  his  Majesty,  and  prays  iiis  earliest 
action  upon  it.  But  long  befoic  the  Royal  pleasiiie  can  be 
knov/n  in  the  New  World,  help  has  come  to  the  little  band 
at  Loretto  from  the  seed  their  own  hands  have  sovvi . 

It  appears  that  as  soon  as  it  became  known  to  the  more 
reflecting  of  the  converts,  that  the  Padres  had  gathered  up 
the  consecrated  utensils  of  the  churches,  and  departed  to  Lo- 
retto, a  sense  of  shame  at  their  ingratitude,  and  a  conception 
of  the  vahie  of  the  Padres'  services,  forced  themselves  upon 
their  stupid  minds,  and  made  them  repent  their  Mi*Vit  of  fideli- 
ty. Acco.dingly  they  now  begin  to  act.  Reciprocal  mes- 
sages are  sent  through  the  country  inviting  each  other  to  ren- 
dezvous and  follow  the  Padres  to  Loretto.  They  come  in 
bands  from  each  mission,  and  form  themselves  into  a  long 
procession,  the  head  men  of  San  Ignacio  bearing  on  their 
shouldei-s  the  crucifixes  of  their  mission,  those  of  Nuestra 
Senora  de  Gaudilupe,  the  crucifixes  of  their  mission,  and  those 
oi  Santa  Rosalia,  Ihe  crucifixes  of  their  mission ;  and  in  silent 
sadness  move  on  to  Loretto,  enter  the  fort  and  stand  weeping 
befon^  the  Padres'  dwelling !  They  say, "  You  have  baptized  us ; 
you  have  taught  us  the  name  and  worship  of  the  true  God ;  you 
have  gathered  us  from  the  dry  mountains  to  the  watered  v?les  ; 
you  have  made  us  believe  that  gor  J  ^cts  alone  bring  happi- 
ness ;  you  have  made  us  your  children  ;  will  you  now  forsake 
IS?  We  cannot  live  as  we  did  before  we  saw  you ;  we  do 
not  want  to  die  in  the  crimes  of  our  dark  days !"  '^  hus  the} 
i-eason  w'th  the  Padres.  « It  is  not  just,"  they  sl  ,  "  that  a 
whole  nation  should  suffer  for  the  sins  of  a  few ;  especially 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIPORNIAS. 


249 


:  % 


a 
lly 


when  the  mass  are  willing  and  able  to  deliver  the  criminal 
to  the  punishment  their  evil  deeds  merit."  With  one  voice 
they  promise  to  protect  the  Padres  in  every  emergency. 
They  implore  them  to  return ;  and  declare  that  if  they  refuse 
*^  do  so,  they  also  will  remain  at  Loretto,  for  they  will  not 
live  without  them  and  their  religion !  The  Padres  and 
garrison  are  affected  to  tears  by  these  evidences  of  contrition 
and  attachment  to  the  faith.  They  delay  a  few  days  in  order 
to  test  the  sincerity  of  the  Indians.  But  noticing  no 
defection  they  repair  to  their  respective  districts  and  are 
received  with  tumultuous  joy  by  their  people.  The  conspira- 
tors are  surrendered  :  some  of  them  are  slightly  flogged  ;  and 
four  of  the  most  guilty  of  the  band  ut  San  Ignacio  are  banished 
a  short  time  from  all  the  mission  premises. 

This  submission  and  fidelity  on  the  part  of  the  Californians 
is  followed  by  a  most  gratifying  manifestation  of  sympathy 
by  the  Yaquis  across  the  Gulf.  These  Indians,  always  noted 
for  their  honesty  and  bravery,  assemble  immediately  upon  the 
receipt  of  Padre  Bravo's  letter  detailing  lue  condition  of  Cali- 
fornia, to  the  number  of  five  hundred  warriors,  and  offer  to  go 
and  put  down  the  insurgents.  But  as  the  bilander,  which  is 
to  convey  them,  can  take  only  a  fraction  of  that  number,  they 
select  from  among  themselves  sixty  of  their  best  warriors,  and 
send  them,  with  five  hundred  bows  and  arrows  to  arm  the 
friendly  Indians  of  the  peninsula  to  fight  in  their  stead. 

With  these  the  bilander  sails  and  lands  them  near  Loretto. 
Thence  they  march  to  Dolores.  Here  they  meet  the  com- 
mander of  the  garrison,  who  greets  them  with  the  warmest 
expressions  of  gratitude  for  their  generous  conduct ;  but 
informs  them  that  tranquilUty  has  been  restored  among  the 
northern  missions  by  the  Indians  themselves.  It  is  therefore 
determined  to  divide  their  strength  between  Loretto  and  La 
Paz.  Accordingly,  a  sufficient  force  having  been  left  in  the 
former  place,  the  remainder  start  in  two  divisions,  the  one  by 
sea,  the  other  by  land,  for  La  Pa^  On  the  landing  of  the 
sea  party,  the  strictest  miUtary  discipline  is  preserved.    This 


I"   i 


250 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


precaution  proves  of  no  slight  service.  For  the  lawless  and 
still  bloodthirsty  savages,  attack  them  on  several  successive 
nights  whh  much  skill  and  fury.  A  few  are  killed  and  several 
wounded.  At  length  the  land  party  arrives.  A  portion  of 
these  being  mounted  on  horses,  which  the  Indians  suppose  to 
be  tlie  running  gear  of  irresistible  monsters  topped  with  the 
trunks  and  heads  of  men,  so  intimidate  them  that  they  flee 
and  are  no  more  seen  by  night  or  by  day  for  some  time.  At 
length,  however,  a  few  re-appear  and  join  the  Padres'  forces. 
These  protest  that  they  have  always  been  faithful,  and  have 
consequently  suffered  much  from  the  insurgents.  They 
declare  that  the  rebels  have  committed  some  recent 
atrocities  upon  the  crew  of  a  Philippine  galleon.  They  report 
the  affair  in  this  wise.  The  ship  arrived  there  from  Ma- 
nilla with  many  of  her  crew  sorely  afflicted  with  scurvy ;  and 
as  her  signals  were  not  answered  from  the  mission,  the  cap- 
tain sent  the  pinnace  ashore  with  thirteen  men  to  inform  the 
Padre  of  his  presence.  As  the  boat  iieared  the  beach,  the  peo- 
ple were  surprised  to  see  neither  any  person  nor  sign  of  life. 
The  greater  part  of  them  landed  and  walked  toward  the  mission, 
but  on  their  way  the  armed  Indians  rushed  upon  them  and 
kiUed  every  man,  or  rendered  him  helpless,  on  the  spot ! 
Having  murdered  these,  they  hastened  to  the  pinnace  and  find- 
ing those  who  were  left  in  charge  of  it  no  more  guarded  than 
the  other  party  had  been,  dispatched  them  also.  They  then 
seized  the  pinnace  and  broke  it  up  for  the  old  iron,  nails, 
spikes,  &c.  While  all  this  was  going  on  the  captain  of  the 
galleon  began  to  feel  some  anxiety  at  the  long  delay  of  his 
pinnace,  and  sent  a  band  of  armed  marines  in  the  long  boat 
to  see?:  her. 

A  most  unexpected  and  painful  sight  met  the  eyes  of 
these  seamen  when  they  reached  the  shore.  Their  pinnace 
was  surrounded  by  a  swarm  of  leaping  and  furious  savages. 
It  was  already  reduced  to  fragments ;  and  the  dead  bodies  of 
several  of  their  companions  lay  upon  the  beach,  trodden  on 
and  mangled  by  their  ruthless  murderers.    Dreadfully  enraged 


1 1 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


251 


f 


on 
;ed 


at  this  sight,  the  mariners  and  soldiers  leaped  ashore  into  the 
thickest  of  their  foes  and  gave  them  battle.  A  few  minutes 
with  fire-arms  settled  the  question  of  victory.  Some  of  the 
villains  were  wounded,  some  killed,  and  four  captured  alive 
and  taken  on  board  the  ship.  The  narrators  saw  the  ship 
leave  her  anchorage  and  stand  away  for  the  Pacific.  They 
know  nothing  more.  It  soon  appears,  however,  that  the 
Captain  left  port  without  making  any  other  attempt  to  pro- 
cure water  or  provisions ;  and  having  put  into  Acapulco, 
sent  his  four  prisoners  and  an  account  of  the  murder  of  his 
crew  to  Mexico.  The  Viceroy  now  begins  to  appreciate  the 
importance  of  protecting  the  missions  of  California.  The 
lives  of  the  Padres  a  short  time  before  could  not  be  pre- 
served without  a  special  warrant  from  Madrid.  But  as  his 
own  credit  at  Court  would  suffer  from  the  representations  of 
the  officers  of  the  galleon,  it  becomes  a  moral  duty  to  quell 
the  insurrection.  Accordingly  he  sends  orders  to  the  gover- 
nor of  Cinaloa  to  go  over  to  the  peninsula  with  a  sufficient 
body  of  men  to  restore  peace,  but  directs  him  to  act  inde- 
pendently of  the  Padres  and  never  in  subordination  to  the 
Captain  of  the  garrison.  These  measures  of  the  Viceroy  are 
made  known  in  California,  and  Padre  Guillen,  in  order  to 
facilitate  their  execution,  despatches  the  bilander  for  the 
governor  and  his  forces,  and  at  the  same  time  directs  the  Cap- 
tain of  the  garrison  to  repair  to  Dolores,  and  there  remain  on 
the  defensive  until  further  orders. 

In  due  time  the  bilander  returns.  The  governor  is  received 
with  great  respect  and  joy  by  the  Padres,  and  with  the  cus- 
tomary honors  by  the  garrison.  He,  however,  soon  shows 
that  he  intends  to  reject  all  advice  from  the  former  and  act  in  the 
reduction  of  the  country  as  he  shall  think  proper.  He  there- 
fore spends  two  years  in  raanoBuvering,  and  attempted  hostili- 
ties with  a  fugitive  foe,  whom  he  knows  not  how  to  bring 
into  a  general  engagement.  At  the  close  of  the  year  1736, 
he  is  obliged  to  confess  that  he  has  effected  nothing  for  the 
suppression  of  the  rebellion. 


252 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


At  this  time  the  Padres  lose  one  of  their  number — Padre 
Julian  de  Mayorga,  founder  of  the  mission  San  Josef  de  Com- 
mondo.  He  has  ruled  his  mission  ever  since  its  origin,  1707, 
greatly  to  the  improvement  and  happiness  of  his  Indians, 
and  in  such  manner  as  to  win  the  respect  and  love  of  all  who 
knew  him.  His  death,  therefore,  is  a  cause  of  deep  grief  to 
his  brethren  and  the  Indians  of  his  mission.  But  while  they 
lament  for  themselves  that  he  is  gone,  they  rejoice  for  him 
that  he  rests  from  the  turbulence  and  anxiety  which  have 
been  the  portion  of  all  for  the  last  three  years. 

The  governor  becoming  convinced  that  he  can  accomplish 
nothing  on  his  present  plan  of  proceedings  resolves  to  adopt 
the  Padres'  advice,  and  take  some  steps  which  shall  make 
him  a  terror  to  the  Indians.  Accordingly  he  sets  out  with  his 
troops  in  earnest  pursuit  of  them,  and  has  the  good  fortune  to 
compel  them  to  an  action  in  which  they  are  utterly  vanquish- 
ed. They  have,  however,  been  too  long  successful  to  be  sub- 
dued by  one  defeat.  Instead,  therefore,  of  making  any 
overtures  of  peace,  they  defy  the  governor  and  provoke  his 
wrath  in  a  series  of  most  annoying  skirmishes.  He  accord- 
ingly forces  them  to  a  second  engagement,  in  which  they  are 
again  put  to  rout.  Soon  after,  they  submit  and  implore  his 
pardon.  But  he  rejects  all  their  advances  until  they  deliver 
up  the  leaders  of  the  rebellion,  especially  those  who  have  mur- 
dered the  Padres.  It  will  be  supposed  that  a  severe  punish- 
ment was  inflicted  on  these  men.  But  the  policy  of  the 
governor  and  Padres  in  California  is  singularly  unlike  that 
which  prevails  in  the  parent  country.  Here  blood  is  never 
shed  by  way  of  revenge  or  punishment.  These  rebels,  there- 
fore, who  have  perpetrated  two  of  the  most  revolting  murders 
on  record,  beside  the  more  common  butcheries  of  their  coun- 
trymen and  the  crew  of  the  galleon's  pinnace,  are  tried  and 
banished  to  the  coast  of  Mexico.  On  their  way  over,  they  rise 
and  attempt  to  take  the  bark.  This  compels  the  mariners  to  fire 
on  them  and  kill  more  than  half  their  number.  Among  the 
few  that  escape,  are  the  two  whose  hands  shed  the  blood  of  the 


iflj 


TRAVELS      IN      THE       CALIFORNIAS 


253 


the 
the 


venerable  Padres.  One  of  these  two  is,  the  next  year,  killed 
in  an  affray ;  and  the  other  falls  from  the  top  of  a  palm  tree 
upon  some  rocks,  and  is  so  horribly  mutilated  and  torn  as  to 
be  hardly  recognizable.  The  remainder  never  return  to  their 
country.  Thus,  after  three  years  of  trepidation  and  violence, 
peace  is  restored  to  California.  And  it  is  chiefly  attributable 
to  the  prudence  and  forbearance  of  the  Padres  that  the  whole 
peninsula  has  not  been  deluged  with  blood. 

The  refusal  of  the  Viceroy  in  the  first  instance  to  protect 
the  missions  without  a  special  order  from  his  sovereign,  results 
in  a  commission  from  his  Majesty  requiring  him  to  erect  a  new 
garrison  at  Cape  San  Lucas;  and  to  take  such  other  measures 
as  may  be  required  to  support  the  missions  and  maintain  the 
conquests  of  the  Padres.  This,  like  all  other  efforts  of  that 
nation  in  similar  matters,  is  made  when  the  utility  and  neces- 
sity of  action  is  past. 

The  Governor  of  Cinaloa,  however,  proceeds  to  the  execu- 
tion of  the  order.  The  garrison  is  to  be  independent  of  the 
Padres,  and  of  the  commanding  officer  at  Loretto,  and  subject 
only  to  orders  from  the  Viceroy.  The  son  of  the  venerable 
Captain  Don  Estevan  Roderiguez  Lorenzo  is  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  new  post.  He  is  a  native  of  California,  and 
having  been  brought  up  by  his  father  under  the  care  of  the 
missionaries,  and  being  pious,  brave,  prudent,  and  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  country,  is  admirably  qualified  to  fill  the 
office.  He  has  thirty  soldiers  under  his  command,  ten  of 
whom  he  stations  at  the  new  camp  of  San  Josef  del  Cabo, 
ten  at  the  mission  of  La  Paz,  and  ten  at  that  of  San  Jago  de 
los  Coras.  The  young  captain,  however,  is  not  thought  to 
act  wuth  sufficient  indifference  to  the  advice  and  opinions  of 
the  Padres ;  and  is  therefore  soon  displaced  by  a  new  man 
from  Mexico,  Don  Pedro  Alvarez  de  Acevedo.  At  the  same 
time  the  Viceroy  orders  an  accession  of  five  soldiers  to  the 
garrison  of  Loretto,  and  particularly  directs  that  the  whole 
force  shall  be  independent  of  the  missionaries.  They  shall 
act  as  an  escort,  indeed,  during  their  journeyings,  but  while  so 
22 


254 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


I 


ti 


':     'I* 


doing,  shall  be  under  the  cominand  of  their  officer,  and  in  no- 
wise amenable  to  the  Padres  for  neglect  or  disobedience  ;  nor 
shall  their  entrance,  discharge,  or  payment  be  in  any  way 
supervised  by  them. 

The  disorder  and  inconvenience  growing  out  of  this  regu- 
lation, very  soon  become  apparent.  The  missions  are  fre- 
quently forsaken  by  the  guar  Is,  the  Padres  have  much  diffi- 
culty in  procuring  them  as  escorts  in  their  visits  to  their  pa- 
rishioners ;  the  Indians  are  frequently  oppressed  by  them 
when  distant  from  their  captain ;  and  a  system  of  trading  and 
chaffering  commences  between  the  soldiers  and  Indians,  which 
dissipates  much  that  the  Padres  have  labored  to  establish,  and 
seriously  neutralizes  their  instructions  and  counsels.  So  much 
evil,  however,  grows  out  of  this  new  order  of  things,  that  at 
the  end  of  eighteen  months  the  Viceroy  abandons  it ;  puts  the 
new  garrison  under  a  lieutenant,  subject  to  the  captain  at  Lo- 
retto,  and  makes  these  officers  subordinate  to  the  Padres. 

As  soon  as  affairs  are  thus  established  on  a  firm  footing,  the 
Society  of  Jesus  appoints  new  missionaries  to  gather  the  dis- 
persed members  of  the  ruined,  missions.  Meantime  his  Ma- 
jesty, continuing  to  receive  advices  of  the  condition  of  Cali- 
fornia both  from  the  Viceroy  and  the  Society,  is  induced  not 
only  to  order  a  new  garrison,  but  to  direct  that  ihe  loss  oc- 
casioned by  the  rebellion  shall  be  repaired  from  the  Royal 
treasury ;  and  also,  that  the  Council  of  the  Indies  shall  lay 
before  him  the  best  plan  for  effectually  reducing  the  Califor- 
nias.  Such  means  are  deliberated  upon,  a  plan  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  these  ends  proposed,  and  orders  for  its  execution 
signed  by  his  Majesty  sent  to  the  Viceroy  on  the  thirteenth  of 
November,  1744.  He  is  directed  to  proceed  in  the  execution 
of  them  without  delay,  and  also  to  send  further  information. 

The  reply  to  these  dispatches  reaches  Madrid  after  the 
death  of  Philip  V.  and  the  accession  of  Ferdinand  VI.  His 
Majesty  is  even  more  ardent  than  his  predecessor ;  and,  upon 
the  information  sent  him,  issues  a  more  particular  and  full  set 
of  instructions  than  any  that  have  preceded  them.    He  de- 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


255 


^'V? 


crees  that  near  all  the  safe  harbors  settlements  shall  be  formed 
and  garrisons  established ;  that  there  shall  also  be  a  garrison 
and  town  in  the  centre  of  the  peninsula,  or  as  near  it  as  may  be 
practicdlie  j  that  facilities  shall  be  afforded  for  establishing 
missions  at  the  north,  in  order  to  cut  off  intercourse  between 
the  Californian  Indians  and  those  of  contiguous  nations ;  that 
in  each  mission  there  shall  be  two  Padres  instead  of  one,  as 
heretofore ;  that  in  all  the  frontier  stations  there  shall  be  a 
guard  under  the  command  of  the  missionaries ;  that  the  ex- 
pense of  carrying  all  these  orders  into  execution  shall  be  de- 
frayed from  the  Royal  treasury ;  and  finally,  that  the  mission- 
aries in  California  shall  be  allowed  the  same  salaries  as  are 
paid  to  their  order  elsewhere.  These  measures  give  great  satis- 
faction in  Mexico  and  California.     The  hearts  of  the  good 
Padres  are  cheered  by  the  assurance  thus  afforded  them,  that 
they  have  in  their  monarch  an  earnest  friend,  who  has  come 
forward  in  his  strength  to  their  aid.    They  now  proceed  on 
their  pilgrimage  of  holy  labors,  with  hearts  full  of  grateful 
praise  to  Him  whom  they  serve. 

In  the  succeeding  year,  1745,  the  following  statement  of 
the  number  and  condition  of  the  missions  is  drawn  up  by  the 
Padres  for  the  information  of  their  sovereign.  This  table  in- 
cludes the  names  and  localities  of  the  missions,  of  the  ranche- 
rias  or  towns,  and  the  Padres  attached  to  them. 

I.  Nuestra  Senora  de  Loretto,  in  25°  30',  with  the  Royal 
Garrison,  and  the  place  where  the  barks  deliver  their  cargoes — 
Padre  Caspar  de  Truxillo. 

II.  San  Xavier,  Padre  Miguel  del  Barco. 

1.  San  Xavier,  25°  30'. 

2.  Santa  Rosalia,  7  leagues  W. 

3.  San  Miguel,  8        "     N. 

4.  San  Augustine,  10  «     S.  E. 

5.  Dolores,  2  leagues  E. 

(B.  San  Pablo,  8  leagues  N.  W. 

III.  Nuestra  Senora  de  los  Dolores  del  Sur,  formerly  San 
Juan  Baptista  Malibat,  or  Ligui— Padre  Clement  Guillen. 


H 

fi 


266 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


1.  Nuestra  Senora  de  los  Dolores,  24°  30', 

2.  La  Concepcion  de  Nuestra  Sen<»a. 

3.  La  Incarnacion. 

4.  La  Santissima  Trinidad.  * 

5.  La  Redempcion. 

6.  La  Resurreccion. 

IV.  San  Luis  Gonsaga — Padre  Lamberto  Hotel. 

1.  San  Luis  Gonsaga,  25^. 

2.  San  Juan  Nepomuceno. 

3.  Santa  Maria  Magdalena,  on  Magdalena  Bay. 

V.  San  Josef  de  Commondu,  without  a  missionary  since 
the  death  of  Padre  Francisco  Xavier  Wagner,  12th  October, 
served  by  Padre  Druet. 

1.  San  Josef,  26°. 

2.  Another  village  1  league  W. 

3.  Another        "    7  leagues  N. 

4.  Another        "  10      "     east,  on  the  shore. 

VL    Santa  Rosalia  Mulege — Padre  Pedro  Maria  Nascimben. 

1.  Santa  Rosalia,  26°  50'. 

2.  Santissima  Trinidad,  6  leagues  S.  S.  E. 

3.  San  Marcos,  8  leagues  N. 

VII.  La  Purissima  Concepcion — Padre  Jacobo  Druet. 

1.  La  Purissima  Concepcion,  26°. 
It  has  six  other  villages  within  8  leagues  round  Cabecera,  the 
metropolis  of  the  mission,  the  names  of  which  are  not  enumerated. 

VIII.  Nuestra  Senora  de  Guadalupe — Padre  Josef  Ctastiege* 

1.  Nuestra  Senora  de  Guadalupe,  27°. 

2.  Concepcion  de  Nuestra  Senora,  6  leagues  S. 

3.  San  Miguel,  6  leagues  S.  E. 

4.  San  Pedro  and  San  Pablo,  8  leagues  E. 

5.  Santa  Maria,  5  leagues  N. 

IX.  San  Ignacio — Padre  Sebastian  de  Sistiaga. 

1 .  San  Ignacio,  28°. 

2.  San  Borgia,      8  leagues. 

3.  San  Joachin,    3 


4.  S.  Sabas,  3 

5.  S.  Athanasio,     5 

6.  Santa  Monica,  7 

7.  Santa  Martha,ll 


<( 


<c 


(C 


(( 


I 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


257 


8.  Santa  Lucia,  10  leagues. 

9.  Santa  Nynfa,     5       " 

X.  Nuestra  Senora  de  los  Dolores  del  Norte — Padre  Fer- 
nando Consag.  This  mission  is  joined  witA  that  of  San  Igna- 
cio,  and  cultivated  by  the  Padres  Sistiaga  and  Consag ;  within  its 
district,  which  lies  30  leagues  from  San  Ignacio,  and  in  the  Lat. 
of  29°,  there  are  already  548  baptized  Indians. 

XI.  Santa  Maria  Magdalena,  begun  in  the  north  by  the  same 
Padre  Consag,  who  writes  concerning  it  to  the  Padre  Provincial, 
Josef  Barba ;  yet  no  convenient  place  for  its  seat  is  to  be 
found,  though  the  converts  are  as  well  disposed  and  regular  as 
those  of  San  Ignacio. 

XII.  San  Jago  del  Sur,  Padre  Antonio  Tempis. 

1.  San  Jago,  33°. 

2.  The  anchoring  place  of  Santa  Maria  de  la  Luz. 

XIII.  Nuestra  Senora  del  Pilar  de  la  Paz.  Of  this  mission 
no  account  comes  with  the  others  j  nor  of  those  which  have 
been  restored,  which  are — 

XIV.  Santa  Rosa  in  Palmas  Bay. 

XV.  San  Josef  del  Cabo  de  S.  Lucas  at  the  station  of  the 
new  garrison. 

XVI.  San  Juan  Baptista,  begun  in  the  north  at  the  village 
of  San  Juan  Baptista,  but  not  yet  established. 

These  are  the  missions  of  Lower  California  in  the  year 
1745.  They  contain  about  twenty-five  thousand  converts 
living  comfortably  under  the  paternal  government  of  the 
Jesuit  Padres.  Padres  Salva  Tierra,  Kino  and  Ugarte  are 
dead ;  but  the  good  deeds  which  they  have  done,  like  the 
grass  and  the  flowers  on  their  graves,  grow  greenly,  bud 
and  blossom,  and  shed  on  the  deserts  of  the  Californian  pe- 
ninsula, a  perpetual  harvest  of  temporal  and  religious  joy. 
The  handicrafts  which  they  have  taught  them ;  the  science  of 
agriculture  which  they  have  given  them ;  the  animals  which 
they  have  reared  around  their  dwellings  ;  the  great  idea  of 
a  God;  and  the  awards  which  He  has  woven  inseparably 
with  the  elements  of  life,  mind,  and  every  condition  of  being  j 
the  discomfort,  debasement,  and  misery  of  vice ;  the  quietness, 
22* 


1 


258 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


;•! 


I 
III 


j 


■  J 


I'     i: 


elevation,  and  happiness  of  virtue  j  all  these,  the  Padres  have 
scattered — seeds,  bearing  the  fruits  of  the  social  and  religious 
relations,  and  the  pumberless  comforts  of  the  civilized  state. 
These  integral  laws  of  immortal  rationality,  have  germinated 
among  the  wastes  of  man,  under  the  kind  planting  of  the  Pa- 
dres, on  the  Californian  Peninsula.  A  mighty  deed  of  moral 
suasion !  Not  by  the  steel  of  conquest,  which  drinks  the  blood 
of  the  weak,  and  opens  the  red  pathway  to  physical  suprema- 
cy J  slaying  body  and  mind ;  enslaving  and  murdering.  This 
conquest  of  the  Padres  is  a  victory  of  Love.  Instead  of  the 
torpedo,  they  plant  the  rose  of  Sharon  ;  instead  of  the  starless 
night  of  bondage,  they  bring  the  full  day  of  knowledge — filled 
with  the  industry,  trust,  faith,  hope  and  energies,  of  a  ripened 
freedom.  Who  can  contemplate  tljese  Missionaries,  enduring- 
the  hardships  which  have  been  partially  related  on  these  pa- 
ges, and  not  venerate  their  memory  ?  They  have  voluntarily 
come  from  the  shrines  of  early  remembrances,  and  torn  from 
the  heart  its  young  and  tender  impulses.  They  have  left  on 
the  cold  fields  of  the  past,  every  tie  of  kindred,  and  the  natu- 
ral hopes  of  humanity.  They  have  taken  li.  vows  of  God  on 
their  souls ;  separated  their  hands  and  thoughts  from  every 
selfish  service ;  and  with  bosoms  bared  to  every  shaft  of  possi- 
ble events,  entered  the  abodes  of  savages,  shielded  only  by 
their  good  deeds  and  holy  purposes !  They  have  conquered 
Lower  California.  It  has  become  a  part  of  the  domain  of  the 
Spanish  crown. 

From  1745  to  1767,  the  Jesuit  Padres  continue  their  labors 
at  these  missions.  The  Spanish  government,  meanwhile,  give 
them  small  relief  from  the  famines  occasioned  by  the  failure 
of  their  crops.  They  mainly  depend  upon  the  products  of  the 
mission  plantations,  and  the  rude  manufactures  of  the  Indian 
artizans,  for  every  comfort  of  life.  And  not  only  do  they  sus- 
tain themselves,  but  every  year  brings  in  the  ships  from  the 
Philippine  Islands,  with  crews  rotting  of  the  scurvy,  for  the 
Padres  to  feed,  clothe,  restore  to  health,  or  bury  in  their  ceme- 
teries. 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFOnNIAS. 


259 


Their  labors  of  love,  however,  draw  to  a  close.  The  soci- 
ety of  Jesus  or  Jesuits,  to  which  they  belong,  has  existed 
about  two  hundred  years.  It  has  sent  its  missionaries  into  Per- 
sia, Hindostan,  China  and  Japan.  It  has  written  more  than 
one  hundred  volumes  in  the  Chinese  language  alone,  many 
hundreds  more  in  the  different  dialects  of  the  Eastern  tongues  j 
has  chided  and  controlled  the  civil  powers  of  Europe ;  has 
made  the  kingdoms  of  the  whole  earth  feel  its  power.  The 
Pope  himself  holds  liis  thione  at  the  sufferance  of  this  mighty 
association.  The  most  profound  learning  of  the  age  is  found 
in  their  colleges,  and  the  most  vigorous  moral  movements  of 
the  times  receive  their  life  from  them. 

Whenever  the  sword  of  Conquest  is  drawn  over  the  head  of 
the  defenceless,  the  Jesuit's  hand  arrests  its  fall,  or  alleviates 
its  wound.  In  feet,  on  the  American  continent  they  have 
spanned  the  whole  breadth  of  human  society,  except  that  part 
of  it  existing  between  the  Alleghany  mountains  and  the  At- 
lantic, and  brought  a  large  majority  of  the  native  population 
under  their  control.  In  Paraguay  indeed,  they  have  organ- 
ized armies,  and  established  an  Empire  of  their  own ;  and  from 
California  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  dc  la  Plata,  Spain  holds 
sway  only  so  far  as  these  priests  permit.  They  protect  the 
savages  against  the  ruthless  cruelty  of  Spanish  barbarity. 
England  in  1604  has  expelled  them  from  her  dominions ;  Ven- 
ice in  1606,  Portugal  in  1757,  France  in  1764,  Spain  now  in 
1767,  does  the  same. 

That  government  would  have  the  sole  sway  over  the  bones, 
sinews  and  intellects  of  the  Indians.  Its  worthless  officials 
would  be  unrestrained  in  the  use  of  them,  to  dig  for  the  pre- 
cious metals,  and  work  their  plantations.  The  Jesuits  have 
prevented  this.  They  have  uniformly  befriended  the  Indians 
and  elevated  their  bodily  and  mental  condition.  They  have 
so  organized  and  enlightened  them,  that  they  can  annihilate 
the  Spanish  name  from  the  continent,  in  a  day.  This  state  of 
things  is  well  known.  A  remedy  is  devised.  Secret  orders 
of  government  are  issued  from  Madrid  to  every  Alcalde  and 


(If 


260 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


military  commandant  in  Spanish  territory,  to  prepare  ships  and 
other  means  of  transport,  and  on  a  given  day,  nine  months 
from  the  date  of  the  edict,  to  seize  and  ship  to  Italy  every 
Jesuit  within  its  dominions.  And  so  profoundly  secret  is  this 
measure  kept,  and  so  complete  is  its  execution,  that  on  the  day 
appointed,  all  the  individuals  of  this  order  in  Europe,  Amer- 
ica, and  the  Spanish  islands,  are  on  route,  to  the  several  ports 
from  which  they  are  to  sail  for  their  destination.  The  worthy 
Padres  of  California  are  now,  therefore,  taking  leave  of  their 
weeping  converts.  The  whole  land  is  sad.  The  services  of 
the  churches  are  interrupted  with  their  lamentations.  The 
poor  savages  crowd  about  the  departing  Padres  for  a  blessing. 
How  shall  they  console  their  grief  1  Who  shall  love  and  la- 
bor for  them  ?  Who  shall  teach,  pray  for  them,  and  rear  them 
step  by  step  onward,  to  the  high  estate  of  a  virtuous,  enlight- 
ened and  religious  people  ?  Alas,  poor  Indians !  from  this  day 
onward,  you  return  to  vice,  and  fade  away. 

This  is  the  history  of  the  conquest  of  Lower  California,  by 
the  priests  of  the  Catholic  church.  Religious  men  persuaded 
the  Indians  into  submission  to  the  civil  authorities  of  Spain. 


I' 

i- 
m 
t- 

>y 


CHAPTER    XV. 

Padre  Junipero  Serra — An  Expedition  by  Sea,  for  the  Conquest  of 
Upper  California — Arrival  at  Loretto— Expeditions  by  sea  and  land 
to  the  North — Arrivals  at  Sau  Diego — Ceremonies  of  Founding  a 
Mission — A  Battle — Going  Northward — Naming  the  bay  of  San 
Francisco— Return  to  San  Diego — The  Resolution  of  Padre  Juni- 
pero— An  Arrival — Departure  for  Monterey — Founding  a  Mission, 
&c. — Arrival  of  thirty  Monks — Other  Missions  Established — Padre 
Junipero  goes  to  Mexico — Great  Scarcity  of  Food — Padre  Junipero 
returns  by  Sea — A  Land  Party  from  Mexico — Exploration  to 
55°  N.— A  Diabolical  Plot  at  San  Diego— A  Dreadful  Battle  at 
Night — Death — Mission  Destroyed— San  Juan  Capistrano — Mission 
and  Presidio  of  San  Francisco  Founded— Death  of  Padre  Junipero — 
Number  of  Missions  in  Upper  California — Dates  of  their  Establish- 
ment— Progress,  Wealth  and  Influence  of  Missions — Mexican  Revo- 
lution— General  Echeandra  arrives  in  California— Measures  taken 
to  destroy  the  Missions — A  Revolution — California  Independent — 
Declaration  of  Rights — Alvarado  and  Villejo — Jose  Castro — Don 
Carlos  Antonio  Carrello — Domestic  War  among  Californian  Free- 
men— Operations  of  the  Grand  Armies  of  the  North  and  South— 
A  Victory  of  Noses — Return  of  Upper  California  to  the  Mexican 
Dominion. 

As  related  in  my  account  of  Lower  California,  the  Jesuits, 
who  have  brought  the  Indians  of  the  territory  into  subjection 
to  Spain,  and  induced  them  to  embrace  the  Catholic  faith,  have, 
in  1767,  been  expelled  from  these'  scenes  of  their  usefulness. 
And  now,  that  the  influence  of  this  powerful  society  is  pros- 
trated, the  Government  turns  its  attention  to  the  conquest  of 
the  country  by  the  employment  of  another  religious  order, 
who  are  supposed  to  be  more  subservient  to  the  dictates  of 
the  civil  authority. 

In  1768,  Padre  Junipero  Serra,  a  Franciscan  monk,  is  ap- 


262 


SCENES       IN       THE      PACIFIC 


pointed  Missionary  President  of  the  Californium,  and  arrives  at 
San  Bias  in  the  month  of  February  of  this  year,  accompan  ed 
by  a  staff  of  sixteen  brothers  of  his  own  order,  from  the  Con- 
vent of  San  Fernando.  Htre  he  meets  sixteen  of  the  ex- 
pelled Jesuits,  in  sorrow  that  their  forsaken  flocks  must  return 
to  the  misery  of  the  savage  state.  These  raen  have  labored 
long  to  plant  the  tree  of  life  in  the  rude  soil  of  the  savage 
heart ;  it  has  begur,  to  put  forth  its  branches  to  the  sun,  and 
shed  its  odors  over  the  land ;  but  while  the  fruits  of  their 
trials  are  being  garnered,  they  have  been  compelled  to  retire 
from  the  harvest,  and  leave  others  to  reap  or  despoil. 

On  the  twelith  of  March,  1768,  Padre  Junipero  and  h!i 
associates  sail  for  Loretto  in  the  same  vessel  which  has 
brought  the  Jesuits  thence,  and  arrive  there  in  safety  about 
the  middle  of  the  following  month.  Padre  Junipero  is  a 
worthy  successor  of  those  great  and  self-denying  men  who 
have  preceded  him  in  this  field  of  martyrdom.  His  own  pe- 
culiar faith  in  religious  things  is  warm  and  far-reaching.  He 
sees  on  the  barren  heights  of  the  Californian  peninsula,  many 
a  dwelUng-place  of  righteousness  for  future  generations ;  and 
hears  in  the  solemn  midnight,  the  voices  of  angels  en- 
couraging him  to  his  work.  The  miracles  wrought  in  the 
days  of  the  primitive  church,  he  believes  may  still  be  wrought 
by  the  saints  militant  •  and  that  the  mighty  arm  of  faith  will 
yet  brmg  down  Omnipotence,  to  mould  anev/  the  distorted 
world.  He  unites  witi^  his  zeal  various  and  extensive  learning. 
The  ancient  and  modern  languages,  v/ith  all  their  stores  of 
philosophy  and  eloquence,  are  known  to  him.  The  life  of 
courts — the  sweets  of  the  social  ties — the  vast  and  stirring 
acts  of  the  world  moving  0)i  to  its  civil  and  religious  desti- 
nies, are  familiar  to  him,  for  he  has  minglet!  ^vith  them,  di- 
rected and  enjoyed  them.  Yet  Padre  Junipero  has  landed  in 
the  wilderness  of  California,  and  begins  the  duties  of  a  mis- 
sionary among  its  Indians ! 

He  dispatches  his  brethren  to  the  several  missions  north 
and  south,  and  reiaains  at  Loretto  awaiting  the  arrival  of 


TRAVELS       IN       THE      CALIFOnNIAS 


263 


Josef  Galvoz,  the  Visitador  General,  whose  commands  are  to 
guide  him  in  his  labors.     This  dignitar}'  arrives  at  La  Paz  in 
July,  with  orders  from  his  superiors  to  visit  the  missioas  in 
Lower  California,   to  superintend  expeditions  about  to  b** 
dispatched  to  San  Diigo  and  Monterey  in  the  upper  pro- 
vince, for  the  establishment  of  missions  and  forts.     Soon  the 
three  packet  boats  of  this  undertaking  arrive.     They  are  called 
the  San  Bias,  San  Cail  s  and  San  Antonio.     In  them  are 
provisions,  agricultural  implements,  and  seeds  of  Spanish  and 
Mexican  grains,  fruits  ani]  esculent  roots,  to  be  planted   at 
the   contemplated   establishments.     They  will   need    cattle, 
horses  and  mules.     A  party  therefore  is  organized  to  drive 
tli"Le  over  the  country  to  Monterey.     The  San  Carlos  is  ready 
hr  sea,  and  the  Visitador  General  fixes  the  day  for  her  de- 
parture.    In  this  vessel  is  Don  Vincent  Vital,  Commander, 
Don  Pedro  Prat,  Lieutenant,  twenty-five  Catalonian  volun- 
teers, a  good  ship's  crew,  and  Padre  Fernando  Parron.    Death 
has  visited  the  Spanish  vessels  in  these  seas  ever  since  Cortez' 
iron  prow  ruffled   them.     In    all    the   north    the   freezing 
hand  of  the  Great  Destroyer  is  seen !     No  living  men  on 
board  the  San  Carlos  t'are  unfurl  the  canvas  till  heaven  is  ap- 
peased.    The  red  cross  is  therefore  raised  to  the  peak,  the 
orange  flag  of  Spaii:  floats  beneath  it ;  and  the  crew  and  the 
soldiers   and  oihcers,  and  priests  with  shaven  crowns,  are 
gathered  on  th    deck  ;  the  holy  sacrament  is  adn^ini&terod  by 
Padre  Juniperc ;  and  Mass  is  .said  to  Son  Josef,  the  chosen 
patron  of  these  expeditions  :  the  vessel  and  colors  are  blessed ; 
an  absolution  and  benediction  administered  to  the  people; 
and  the  vessel  San  Carlos  leaves  the  ha>bor  of  Loretto  on  the 
nmth  of  January,  1769,  on  her  voyage  to  Upper  California. 
The  San  Anionic  sails  from  Cape  San  Luciis  on  the  fifteenth 
of  the  following  month.     Her  commander  is  Don  Jiian  Perez. 
She  has  o:i  board  Padres  Juan  Biscayno  and  Fran<  is<o  Go- 
mez, and  her  crew.     The  San  Josef  leaves  Loretto  on  the 
sixteenth  of  June  of  the  same  year. 

Meanwhile  the  land  expedition  is  being  forwarded  with  all 


264 


SCENES       IN       THE       PACIFIC 


1  u 


5     't'i 

■   i 


possible  dispatch.  It  is  divided  into  two  companies ;  so  that 
if  one  of  them  shall  be  destroyed,  the  other  may  chance  to  be 
saved.  Don  Gasper  de  Portala  is  the  commissioned  Governor  of 
the  Californias  and  commander  of  this  land  expedition.  He  is 
a  captain  of  dragoons  in  the  Spanish  army.  Captain  Fernando 
Rivera  y  Moncada  is  his  second.  The  latter  receives  command 
of  the  first  division  of  the  landsmen  ;  and  in  the  month  of  Sep- 
tember, 1768,  takes  up  his  line  of  march  for  the  north.  He  soon 
arrives  at  a  place  now  called  Nuestra  Senora  de  los  Angelos, 
on  the  Indian  frontier,  and  having  found  some  supplies  and 
baggage,  sent  in  launches  from  the  missions  to  this  place,  he 
proceeds  eighteen  leagues  northward,  to  a  valley  of  excellent 
pastures,  wood  and  water,  and  hglts.  Here  he  remains  until 
the  first  day  of  March,  1769,  and  again  marches  northward, 
until  the  twenty-fourth  of  the  same  month,  when  he  arrives  at 
the  port  of  San  Diego,  in  latitude  32°  N.  Here  he  finds  the 
San  (/arlos  and  San  Antonio  at  anchor.  These  vessels  have 
suffered  greatly  from  storms  and  contrary  winds.  The  first 
arrived  on  the  first  of  May,  1768.  Her  whole  people,  except 
the  officers,  cook,  and  one  seaman,  have  died  of  the  scurvy 
and  thirst  and  hunger.  The  San  Anionio  arrived  on  the 
eleventh  of  April,  having  lost  eight  of  her  crew  by  the  scurvy. 
The  San  Josef  was  not  seen  after  she  left  Loretto.  Don 
Rivera  y  Moncada,  his  twenty -five  soldiers,  his  three  mule- 
teers and  his  converted  Indians,  Padre  Crispi  and  a  midship- 
man, now  form  a  camp  upon  the  green  plain,  and  rest  from 
the  fatigues  of  a  march  of  fifty-four  days,  over  the  dry  crags 
of  the  Caiifornian  wilderress. 

The  second  part  of  the  land  expedition,  with  its  mules, 
horsfs,  black  cattle,  muleteers  and  baggage,  on  the  thirteenth 
of  May,  1769,  arc  at  a  place  called  Villacata ;  and  Padre 
Junipero  and  the  Governor  are  with  them.  They  are  waiting 
the  arrival  of  the  troops ;  and  while  thus  unemployed,  ex- 
amine the  surrounding  country — find  it  valuable,  and  conse- 
crate it  to  the  use  of  the  mission  in  the  neighborhood  called 
Snn    Francisco  de  Borja ;   and  hither  this  mission  is  to  be 


3 

I 

i 


TRAVELS       IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


265 


\^i3j 


removed.  The  ceremony  of  consecrating  the  location  of  this 
mission  is  worthy  of  being  known.  The  soldiers  and  mule- 
teers clear  away  the  rubbish  from  the  future  site  of  the  church 
— hang  seven  bells  upon  the  trees,  and  form  a  grand  cross. 
This  is  the  work  of  the  first  day.  On  the  second,  Padre  Ju- 
nipero,  invested  in  robes,  blesses  the  holy  water,  and  with 
it  sprinkles  the  site  of  the  church  and  the  cross.  The  latter, 
adorned  with  flowers,  is  then  erected  in  irot\t  of  the  conse- 
crated area.  This  i  i  then  receives  its  name,  San  Josef. 
The  first  Mass  is  now  c;  ited — and  Padre  Junipero  pronoun- 
ces a  discourse  upon  the  coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The 
sacrifice  of  the  Mass  is  now  conckulcd,  and  Veni  Creator  is 
sung.  In  the  progress  of  all  this  there  is  a  constant  dis- 
charge of  musketry.  The  smoke  of  the  burning  powder  is 
the  only  incense  from  the  mountain  altars  of  this  day's  wor- 
ship. 

They  leave  Vellacata  on  the  15th  of  May,  1769,  and  direct 
their  course  northwardly  towards  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  ; 
but  after  travelling  above  thirty-five  leagues,  their  progress  is 
intercepted  by  a  steep  and  rocky  mountain,  over  which 
their  cattle  cannot  pass.  They  therefore  return  southward  as 
far  as  the  frontier  mission,  San  Borj.i.  Having  rested  them- 
selves and  their  animals  a  few  days,  ihey  take  a  route  in  a 
north-westerly  direction.  Forty-six  days  do  they  travel. 
The  southern  half  of  their  way  passes  through  a  sterile  rocky 
country  with  occasional  fruitful  valleys  skirted  with  timber. 
The  northern  half  is  plentifully  supplifxi  with  streams  of  water 
running  among  rich  savannas  clothed  with  the  wild  gra  ", 
roses,  and  vines  bearing  a  large  sour  grape.  The  timber  is 
not  abundant — but  on  the  hills  the  deep  loamy  soil  frequently 
produces  the  live  oak  and  other  valuable  trees,  and  the  vales 
which  run  up  from  the  seaside,  are  often  clad  with  heavy 
forests.  Many  Indians  meet  them.  The  males,  both  old  and 
young,  are  entirely  naked,  while  the  females  of  all  ages  are 
covered  with  rush  mats  and  skins  from  their  breasts  down- 
ward. Their  food  consists  of  seeds,  fi'uits,  and  fish.  They 
23 


N 


266 


SCENES       IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


f' 


K-  • 


( 


are  uniformly  familiar  and  friendly.  On  the  first  day  of  July 
they  pitch  their  camp  on  the  beach  among  their  coui..rymen, 
at  the  long-sought  port  of  San  Diego. 

As  the  crews  of  the  vessels  have  been  thinned  by  death, 
till  there  are  scarcely  enough  to  man  one  of  them,  they 
cannot  proceed  farther  north  without  recruits.  Accord* 
ingly  the  remaining  members  of  both  crews  are  put  on  board 
the  San  Antonio,  and  the  ship  dispatched  to  San  Bias  for 
more  seamen.  It  is  also  determined  that  the  Governor  shall 
lead  the  principal  part  of  the  landsmen  along  the  shoic  to 
Monterey.  The  Padre's  President  and  two  missionaries  and 
eight  soldiers  are  therefore  detached  to  remain  at  the  newly 
consecrated  mission  of  San  Diego  ;  and  Don  Gasper  Portala, 
the  Governor,  with  one  servant,  the  Padres  Juan  Crispi  and 
Francisco  Gomez,  with  each  a  converted  Indian  to  attend  on 
him,  and  Don  Fernando  Rivera  y  Moncada  with  his  sergeant 
and  twenty-six  soldiers ,  and  his  lieutenant  Don  Pedro  Foxes, 
with  seven  Catalonian  soldiers,  and  Don  Miguel  Constanzo, 
engineer,  and  seven  muleteers  and  fifteen  Indians  from  the 
southern  missions,  start  over  land  to  Monterey.  They  search 
the  coast  for  bays  and  harbors,  examine  the  lands  and  their 
products,  pass  the  harbor  of  Monterey  without  recognizing  it, 
go  north  to  the  Bay  now  called  San  Francisco,  and  give  it 
that  name  under  the  following  circumstances: — When  the 
Padre  President,  Junipero,  received  orders  from  the  Visitador 
General  respecting  the  names  of  the  new  missions  which  he 
was  sent  northward  to  found,  perceiving  that  the  name  of  the 
Patron  Saint  of  his  order  of  priests  was  not  among  them,  said, 
"  And  is  our  Father  San  Francisco  to  have  no  mission  assign- 
ed to  him  ?"  To  which  the  Visitador  replied,  "If  San  Fran- 
cisco wishes  to  have  a  mission,  let  him  show  you  a  good  port, 
and  then  it  shall  bear  his  name."  When  the  Monterey  expe- 
dition, therefore,  see  this  unequalled  bay,  they  exclaim, 
"  This  is  the  port  to  which  the  Visitador  rifcrred,  and  to 
which  the  Saint  has  led  us,"  and  immediately  called  the  bay 
Bajia  del  San  Francisco.     They  now  erect  a  cross  on  the 


T  r.  A  V  n  L  P       IN       T  fl  E       C  A  L  I  F  0  U  >    I  A  S 


267 


western  shore  of  the  soi'.thern  great  arm  of  this  bay,  and  hav- 
ing taken  possession  of  the  country  in  the  name  of  their  sove- 
reign, celebrate  the  Mass,  commence  their  return  to  San 
Diego,  and  arrive  there  on  the  twenty-fourth  of  January, 
1770. 

During  the  half  year  occupied  by  this  expedition,  the  Pa- 
dre President  Junipero  is  not  idle  at  San  Diego.  On  the  six- 
teenth day  of  July,  1769,  he  consecrates  the  foundation  of  a 
mission.  This  is  the  day  of  the  year,  when  in  1212,  the 
Spaniards,  under  the  banner  of  the  cross,  prostrated  the  power 
of  the  Mahoraedans  in  the  south  of  Spain;  and  the  good 
Padre  Junipero  hopes  that  the  same  banner  shall  yet  wave 
over  the  Gentiles  of  Upper  California.  He  chants  the  Mass, 
celebrates  the  triumph  of  the  Holy  Cross,  sprinkles  the  ground 
with  the  baptismal  water  of  the  Church,  and  calls  it  San 
Diego,  or  Saint  James.  Afterwards  he  dedicates  one  of  their 
huts  to  the  use  of  a  temporary  church,  and  invites  the  Indians 
to  attend  service ;  presents  them  food  which  they  reject ; 
gives  them  small  pieces  of  cloth  with  which  they  are  greatly 
delighted ;  yet  they  cannot  Ix"  persuaded  to  bow  before  the 
cross,  and  gladden  the  Padre's  heart  by  embracing  the  Catho- 
lic faith  ;  but  on  the  contrary,  they  allow  their  desire  for  rloth 
to  induce  them  in  the  night  time  to  go  on  large  rafts  built  of 
bulrushes  to  the  ship  San  Carlos,  and  purloin  a  part  of  her 
sails.  This  act  is  followed  by  precautions  to  prevent  its  repe- 
tition ;  yet  as  no  punishment  is  indicted  on  the  thieves,  they 
arm  themselves  with  bows  and  arrows,  wooden  swords  of  keen 
edge,  and  formidable  clubs,  and  begin  to  steal  so  boldly  that 
the  Spaniards  find  it  necessary  to  oppose  them  by  force ;  and  as 
soon  as  their  determination  to  do  so  is  manifested,  the  Indians 
resolve  to  accomplish  their  desitins  by  war.  On  the  thirteenth 
and  fov.rteenth  days  of  August,  therefore,  they  ibrce  their  way 
into  tne  quarters  of  the  people  and  carry  olf  several  garments 
and  other  valuables ;  but  are  driven  away  wilhour.  iin  attempt 
to  kill  any  of  them.  On  the  titteenth,  it  becomes  necessary  for 
Padre  Fernando  to  sjo  on  board  the  San  Carlos  to  celebrate 


1. 1 


268 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC 


the  Mass  with  two  soldiers  who  guard  the  ship.  Padres  Ju- 
niper© and  Biscayno  are  left  on  shore  with  only  two  other 
persons  able  to  do  duty  j  and  the  Indians,  perceiving  the  advan- 
tage to  be  derived  from  the  absence  of  one  of  the  boldest  of 
those  they  would  rob,  gather  in  large  numbers  while  the 
people  are  at  Mass,  and  begin  to  carry  away  everything  they 
find,  even  the  sheets  that  cover  the  sick !  The  corporal  calls 
"  to  arntB !"  whereupon  the  Indians  retire  a  short  distance  and 
shoot  their  arrows.  And  now  the  four  soldiers,  the  carpenter 
and  blacksmith  commence  firing  their  guns.  The  latter, 
although  he  has  no  armor  to  protect  him  from  the  arrows, 
charges  upon  the  savages,  crying  out,  "  Long  live  the  faith 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  die  the  dogs  his  enemies  !"  Meantime 
the  Padre  President  Junipero  is  praying  that  none  may  be 
hurried  to  the  world  of  spirits  with  their  sins  unforgiven. 
The  battle  rages  on,  accompanied  by  the  terrible  war-cry  of 
the  savages.  An  arrow  takes  effect ;  a  boy  called  Josef  runs 
in  great  haste  and  prostrates  himself  at  the  Padre's  feet,  ex- 
claiming, "  Father,  give  me  absolution,  for  the  Indians  have 
killed  me."  The  Padre  absolves  him.  The  arrow  has  passed 
through  his  throat ;  and  he  immediately  dies !  His  death  is 
kept  secret  and  the  battle  continues.  Many  of  the  savages 
fall.  They  drag  away  their  dead  and  dying,  till  at  length, 
panic-smitten  by  the  destructive  effects  of  fire-arms,  they  flee 
to  the  hills  in  great  precipitation  ! 

It  cannot  be  known  how  many  of  these  savages  have 
perished  by  this  mad  act.  Very  many  are  known  to  be 
wounded  ;  for  in  a  few  days  their  friends  bring  them  into  the 
mission  and  entreat  the  Padres  to  cure  them  :  and  the  sufgeon 
and  the  Padres  treat  them  kindly  till  restored  to  health 

Padre  Biscayno,  one  soldier,  an  Indian  Christian,  and  the 
brnvu  blacksmith  are  wounded ;  but  in  a  short  time  all  the 
whitcN,  except  the  poor  boy  Josef,  are  well  again.  This  un- 
successiul  attack  has  a  salutary  etfect  on  the  Indians.  They 
come  fearfully  into  the  mission  every  day,  and  treat  the  Padres 
and  the  religion  they  teach  with  deference.     A  boy  about 


I 

0 

\ 
e 

s 

II 

F 

t 


T  U  A  V  L  L  S      IN       THE       C  A  L  I  F  O  U  N  I  A  S 


269 


fifteen  years  old  is  among  the  most  frequent  and  devout.  Him 
the  Padre  President  teaches  the  Spanish  language,  in  order 
tliat  he  may  learn  the  prayers  and  catechism,  and  act  as  inter- 
preter. He  learns  easily,  and  is  soon  able  to  inform  his  coun- 
trymen that  the  Padre  desires  to  baptize  their  children,  and 
instruct  them  in  the  Catholic  faith.  One  is  selected  from 
the  many  which  are  offered,  and  the  holy  water  is  about  to 
fall  from  the  Padre's  hand,  when  the  parents  of  the  child 
snatch  it  away,  to  the  great  grief  of  the  Padre  and  the  indig- 
nation of  the  soldiers.  The  latter  in  their  zeal  ask  permission 
to  destroy  these  blaspheming  gentiles.  The  gooil  Junipero 
denies  them. 

Distress  follows  these  Franciscans  as  it  has  the  Jesuits.  The 
country  is  unploughed  and  yields  little  food.  The  San  Antonio 
has  gone  to  San  Bias  for  supplies ;  but  heaven  only  knows  if 
the  storms  will  spare  her  to  save  them  fiom  starvation.  She 
has  already  been  absent  so  long  that  they  begin  to  fear  she  is 
lost.  The  Governor,  therefore,  orders  an  account  to  be  tak- 
en of  the  provisions  on  hand,  and  notifies  the  Padre  Presi- 
dent that  they  can  hold  out  no  longer  than  March  following  ; 
and  that  if  the  ship  should  not  arrive  by  San  Josefs  day,  the 
twenty-fifth  of  that  month,  he  shall  abandon  the  enterprise,  and 
commence  his  return  to  Loretto.  This  announcement  greatly 
afflicts  the  Padre  Junipero.  Leaving  the  country  he  feels  will 
carry  with  it  for  a  long  time  to  come,  the  abandonment  of  the 
Indians  to  their  heathenism ;  and  he  retires  to  his  closet  and 
implores  aid  from  Heaven.  God  is  his  master;  from  Him  he 
seeks  ligiit.  San  Josef  is  the  Patron  Saint  of  his  holy  enter- 
prise ;  from  him  he  seeks  celestial  intercessions  with  the  Ruler 
of  events.  The  conversion  of  the  Gentiles  is  the  work 
which  burdens  his  heart;  and  he  holds  the  cross  toward  Heav- 
en and  vows  never  to  leave  California  till  he  has  thrust  the 
spiritual  plough  into  the  glebe  of  its  moral  wastes.  He  com- 
municates his  resolution  to  the  Governor,  and  awaits  the  ap- 
proach of  th(i  eventful  day  with  the  greatest  solicitude.  The 
twenty-fifth  of  M»rch  at  last  comes.  The  Padre  greets  its  dawn- 


270 


SCENKS       IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


n 


>      * 

"  !' 


ti 


ing  light  with  the  chants  of  the  Mass,  and  the  celebration  of 
the  most  sacred  services  of  the  church.  The  people  are  called 
together  at  mid-day,  and  prayers  arc  most  devoutly  said  and 
praises  again  sung  to  the  Creator. 

The  good  Padre  speaks.  He  draws  an  exhortation  from  the 
Laws  of  God.  He  exhorts  as  one  soon  to  be  left  alone  in  a 
land  of  martyrdom.  He  ceases  ;  he  blesses;  and  the  tide  of 
thought  and  emotion  is  now  setting  upon  the  busy  movements 
of  the  departure  for  Lorctto,  when  lo !  in  the  offing  is  per- 
ceived the  outline  of  a  vessel  standing  towards  the  land  ! 
Was  it  an  omen  !  shadowtd  on  the  rim  of  the  sky  to  arouse 
faith  in  God  ?  It  disappears  during  the  night !  The  sun  rises 
and  sets  over  the  hot  seas  three  times  afterwards,  and  it  does 
not  re-appear!  The  fourth  day  dawns  and  waxes  to  the  me- 
ridian, and  wanes  on  the  western  waves!  And  when  night 
shuts  in,  the  cable  of  the  San  Antonio  rattles  its  rude  saluta- 
tion to  the  silent  shores  around  the  Bay  of  San  Diego  ! 

On  the  arrival  of  this  ship  with  provisions  and  a  recruit  of 
men,  it  is  determined  to  make  another  expedition  to  Monterey. 
A  party  by  land  and  another  by  sea,  are  detailed  for  the  under- 
taking. Both  leave  San  Diego,  about  the  middle  of  April,  1770. 
Long  and  tedious  are  the  voyages  of  these  infant  days  of  navi- 
gation. Forty-six  days  are  spent  by  the  San  Antonio  in 
making  4*^  of  latitude.  On  the  thirty-first  of  May,  how- 
ever, Padre  Junipero  with  joy  beholds  from  the  ship  the  green 
hills  around  the  bay  of  Monterey.  The  anchor  is  let  into  the 
waters,  the  boats  are  lowered,  they  shoot  away  to  the  shore ; 
the  land  expedition  having  arrived  eight  days  before,  meet  their 
coimtrymen  on  the  rocks  at  the  beach.  The  first  and  second 
of  June  are  spent  in  that  hearty  social  intercourse,  which 
those  alone  ever  feel  who  have  thrown  their  hearts  for  months 
on  the  cold  breast  of  the  wilderness.  Dangers  incurred,  suf- 
ferings endured  on  rock  and  surge,  remembrances  of  the  sa- 
cred past, the  sensations  of  dawning  joy  crowding  on  past  mis- 
ery like  day  on  the  heels  of  night,  cluster  around  the  mind  and 
bid  the  affections  increase  the  pulsations  of  life.     On  the  third 


f. 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


271 


of  June,  they  celebrate  their  landing.  It  is  Pentecost  day. 
The  officers  and  men  of  the  sea  and  land  expeditions  assemble 
under  a  great  oak  tree  near  the  shore.  They  erect  an  altar  in 
its  shade,  hang  bells  on  its  branches,  and  proceed  with  their 
services.  They  chant  Veni  Creator^  consecrate  the  water,  erect 
and  bless  a  grand  cross,  unfurl  the  royal  standard,  chant  the 
Mass,  and  sing  a  Salve  to  the  Virgin,  whose  image  occupies 
the  altar.  And  after  the  Padre  Junipero  has  delivered  a  pa- 
thetic discourse,  a  solemn  Te  Deum  is  sung  to  the  Great  Cre- 
ator. The  officers  now  take  formal  possession  of  the  country 
in  the  name  of  their  king.  These  ceremonies  being  completed, 
they  repair  to  a  shady  place  on  the  beach  and  dine,  as  they 
have  worshipped,  amid  salutes  of  small  arms,  and  the  cannon 
of  the  vessels.  Thus  is  commenced  the  settlement  of  Mon- 
terey, in  Upper  California.  All  thi  ■  done,  the  Padre  President 
proceeds  to  found  the  mission  of  Monterey,  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  he  has  done  that  at  San  Diego.  But  he  finds  it  more 
difficult  to  induce  the  Indians  to  avail  themselves  of  his  teach- 
ings. The  firing  of  the  artillery  and  muskets  at  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  first  Mass,  has  so  terrified  them,  that  the  heart  of 
the  excellent  Padre  is  not  frladdened  by  "a  baptism,  till  the 
twenty-sixth  of  the  following  December. 

Meanwhile  the  ship  San  Antonio  being  detained  some  time 
at  Monterey,  the  Padre  President  is  enabled  to  explore  portions 
of  the  neighboring  country.  He  finds  the  fertile  soil  so  abun- 
dant and  the  natives  so  numerous,  that  he  writes  to  the  chief 
of  the  College  of  San  Fernando  in  Mexico,  that  a  hundred 
more  missionaries  may  be  well  employed  in  the  Californias. 
This  favorable  account  of  the  country  induces  the  Viceroy  at 
Mexico  to  order  thirty  Franciscan  monks  to  proceed  to  San 
Bias — twenty  of  whom  are  destined  for  Lower  and  ten  for 
Upper  California.  The  latter  sail  from  San  Bias  in  the  San 
Antonio,  on  the  seventh  of  January,  1771,  and  on  the  twelfth 
of  March,  put  into  San  Diego,  sorely  afflicted  with  the  scurvy 
They  go  overland  to  Monterey.     The  monks  destined  for 


1^ 

m 


11 


'i\ 


1'^  1 


272 


SCENES      IN       THE       P  A  C  I  !•  I  C  , 


1 

1 

L 

i 

Lower  California  are  less  fortunate.  Their  ship,  the  San  Carlos, 
is  allowed  by  its  unworthy  commander  to  drift  ashore,  in  the 
Port  Mansanillo,  a  fine  harbor  lying  some  distance  south  from 
San  Bias ;  and  the  poor  friars,  left  to  shift  for  themselves,  are 
compelled  to  toil  over  three  hundred  leagues  of  rough,  path- 
less, uninhabited  coast  along  the  ocean  and  gulf,  till  they  find 
tht.nselves  on  the  coast  of  Senora  opposite  to  Loretto.  They 
cross  the  gulf  to  Loretto,  thither  the  San  Carlos  follows 
them  in  the  month  of  August,  having  been  eight  months  at 
sea,  between  two  ports  which  are  now  but  five  or  six  days' 
sail  apart. 

The  reinforcement  to  Upper  California  enables  the  presid- 
ing Padre  to  found  a  new  mission  which  he  dedicates  to  San 
Antonio  de  Padua.  This  station  is  built  among  the  green 
hills  of  Santa  Lucia,  about  eight  leagues  from  tho  Pacific  coast 
and  twenty  from  Monterey.  The  grounds  are  broken  and  the 
seed  sown  ;  but  a  blighting  and  untimely  frost  comes  and  the 
total  loss  of  the  wheat  is  threatened.  The  Indians  are  dis- 
heartened and  still  more  so  the  Padres,  who  anticipate  with 
keen  forebodings  the  loss  of  their  bread.  They  send  the  Chris- 
tian Indians  to  the  woods  to  gather  seeds,  roots,  fruits,  &c.,  for 
their  subsistence,  as  in  former  times  has  been  their  custom. 
The  Padres  strengthen  their  own  and  the  Indians'  faith,  by  a 
firm  reliance  on  *heir  patron  saint ;  and  to  conciliate  his  high- 
est favor,  they  resolve  to  celebrate  his  Novena  with  all  their 
converts.  At  the  same  time  they  take  the  more  business-like 
precaution  of  irrigatinij  the  blighted  field ;  and  in  a  few 
days,  such  is  the  efficacy  of  the  water,  and  still  more,  as  they 
believe,  their  prayers,  that  the  resuscitated  grain  field  is 
seen  springing  into  new  life.  At  the  end  of  the  Novena,  the 
whole  field  is  covered  with  beauty  and  promise,  and  at  harvest 
yields  more  abundantly  than  was  ever  before  known.  This 
encourages  the  new  converts,  and  kindles  the  gratitude  of  the 
Padres.  Meanwhile  new  efforts  are  resolved  on  in  San  Diego ; 
and  on  the  tenth  of  August,  Padre  Pedro  Cambon  and  Padre 
Angel  Somera,  with  a  detachment  of  ten  soldiers  and  the  re- 


T  R  A  V  K  I.  S       IN       THE      C   A  f.  I  F  0  R  N  I  A  8  , 


273 


qulsite  number  of  mules  and  drivers,  set  out  and  travel  north- 
wardly. When  they  arrive  at  the  river  Terablores,  about  forty 
leagues  from  San  Diego,  and  while  they  are  seeking  a  desira- 
ble site  for  their  mission,  the  Indians,  armed  and  led  on  by 
two  commanders,  rush  from  their  lutking-places  with  dread- 
ful yells  and  the  most  unecjuivocal  demonstrations  of  hostility. 
The  Padres  dread  bloodshed.  They  exalt  the  image  of  "  Our 
Lady  ;"  the  subdued  savages  prostrate  themselves  in  crowds 
around  the  standard  ;  allow  them  without  interruption  to  pro- 
ceed with  the  solemn  ceremonies  of  founding  the  mission  of 
San  Gabriel ;  and  the  swelling  notes  of  the  first  Mass  chanted 
in  these  solitudes,  mount  to  the  ear  of  the  Omnipotent  in  the 
year  1771,  from  a  little  group  consisting  of  the  Padres,  the 
rude  soldiers,  the  careless  muleteers  and  wandering  Indians, 
gathered  under  the  spreading  boughs  of  a  tree  on  the  conse- 
crated ground,  just  as  the  sun  is  rising  to  bring  the  anniversary 
of  the  nativity  of  the  Virgin. 

The  Padres  have  now  divided  their  forces  as  much  as 
practicable.  No  more  missions  can  be  founded  till  help  ar- 
rives from  Mexico  ;  and  oppressed  with  care,  labor,  hunger, 
and  anxiety,  lest  the  Indians  should  relapse  into  their  hea- 
thenish >**lief  and  practices,  they  remain  with  little  to  en- 
courage their  minds,  or  strengthen  their  fainting  hearts,  until 
the  autumn  of  1772,  when  Padre  Junipero  founds  the  mission 
San  Luis  Obispo  de  Tolozo,  nnd  in  November  embarks  at  San 
Diego  ^or  Mexico.  There  ^  struggles  with  the  Viceroy 
Bucareli  to  prevent  him,  if  pos:>ii<le,  from  abandoning  the  port 
of  San  Bias  as  a  naval  station  ;  and  so  successfully  presents 
the  ca^e  of  the  infant  missions  to  him  that  he  is  induced  to 
finish  a  frigate  which  has  Leon  begun  at  San  Bias,  for  the 
purpose  of  exploring  the  coast  of  Upper  California,  and 
also  to  freight  a  packet  boat  with  provisions  for  Monterey. 
But  again  these  navigators,  on  whose  skill  so  much  depends  for 
the  comfort  and  sustaining  of  the  missions,  fail  through  igno- 
rance, negligence,  or  misfortune,  to  reach  the  port  of  destina- 
tion J  and  the  picker  enters  the  bay  of  Loretto  without  her 


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274 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


I,'      'ill 


»'jdder,  and  otherwise  disabled  from  proceeding  on  her  voyage. 
So  that  the  good  Padres,  with  their  ignorant,  helpless  de- 
pendents, are  doomed  to  another  tedions  famine.  For  eight 
months  they  subsist  almost  exclusively  on  a  scanty  supply  of 
milk.  But  in  the  meantime,  food  and  aid  and  kind  hearts  are 
on  their  way  to  them  from  Mexico.  The  indefatigable  Padre 
Junipero  toils  faithfully  till  September,  1773,  when,  with 
missionaries,  officers,  soldiers,  and  a  large  supply  of  necessa- 
ries, consisting  of  maize,  beans,  flour  and  clothing,  to  the 
value  of  $12,000,  he  joyfully  embarks  for  Cahfornia.  He 
has  also  procured  the  despatch  of  an  expedition,  under  the 
command  of  Captain  Juan  Bautista  Anza,  through  the  interior 
by  the  rivers  Gila  and  Colorado,  in  order  that  the  disasters 
by  sea  which  have  so  often  overwhelmed  the  missions  with 
disappointment,  famine  and  despair,  may  in  future  be  averted. 
The  good  Padre  himself  proceeds  to  San  Bias,  and  freighting 
the  packet  San  Antonio  and  the  new  frigate  Santiago  with 
his  supplies,  embarks  on  his  return  in  January  of  1774,  and 
after  forty-nine  days'  sail  puts   into    San   Diego. 

Monterey  is  the  place  of  destination;  and  Padre  Juni- 
per proceeds  thither  over  land,  that  he  may  visit  the  various 
missions  on  his  route.  Anza's  land  expedition  is  there :  and 
the  Padre  rejoices  to  learn  that  there  is  no  obstacle  to  a  land 
communication  between  Mexico  and  Monterey.  But  the 
pleasure  arising  from  this  discovery  is  greatly  lessened  by  the 
announcement  that  there  are  no  provisions  among  the  people, 
and  that  famine  is  rapidly  wasting  the  energies  and  hopes  of 
his  new  establishments.  The  good  man's  heart  is  wrung  by 
this  tale  of  suffering,  and  he  hastens  on  with  a  few  supplies ; 
but  finds  at  his  arrival  on  th  i  eleventh  of  May,  that  the 
frigate  he  left  in  San  Diego  is  two  days  in  advance  of  him, 
and  that  the  hungry  are  already  fed.  Joy  and  welcome  every- 
where meet  the  Padre  President ;  the  Friars  hail  him  as  a 
loved  brother  and  strong  companion  ;  the  poor  Indians  as  a 
father  and  protector.    Thus  strengthened  and  encouraged,  the 


TRAVELS      IN       THE       C  A  L I  F  0  R  N  I  A  S  . 


276 


laborers  of  the  cross  toil  on.  Meantime  the  frigate,  which  is 
under  orders  from  the  Viceroy  to  explore  the  northwest  coast, 
departs  from  Monterey  on  the  eleventh  of  June,  proceeds  as 
far  as  Lat.  55°  N.,  and  finds  an  inlet  which  they  name  Santa 
Margarita,  and  returns.  In  March  of  the  next  year,  she  makes 
another  expedition,  accompanied  by  a  schooner  under  the 
command  of  Bodega,  afterwards  the  friend  of  Vancouver. 
As  these  vessels,  however,  are  separated  in  a  gale  on  the 
thirtieth  of  July,  the  frigate  proceeds  to  Lat.  49°  N., 
and  puts  back  in  search  of  the  lost  schooner;  arriving 
at  Monterey  on  the  twentieth  of  August,  she  finds  her 
consort  riding  at  anchor  in  the  bay.  The  failure  of  these  ex- 
peditic  ns  seems  rather  to  stimulate  than  cool  the  enterprise  of 
the  Viceroy.  He  orders  a  new  frigate  to  be  built  at  San  Bias, 
and  sends  a  naval  officer  to  Peru  to  purchase  a  vessel  to  ac 
company  her  over  these  vexed  waters.  These  vessels  sail 
from  San  Bias  on  the  twelfth  of  February,  1779,  under  com- 
mand of  Don  Ignatio  Artiago.  Two  missionaries  from  the 
Convent  of  San  Fernando  accompany  the  expedition.  The 
object  of  the  voyage  is  to  discover  a  water  passage  from  the 
Pacific  to  the  Atlantic.  They  reach  Lat.  55°  N.  on  the  third 
of  June,  and  discover  a  strait  which  they  call  Bucareli.  Here 
they  look  in  vain  for  a  passage  eastward  ;  and  about  the  first 
of  July  proceed  still  farther  northward.  On  the  first  of  Au- 
gust, in  about  Lat.  60°  N.,  they  discover  a  large  and  safi- 
harbor,  with  abundance  of  wood,  water,  and  fish.  This  they 
name  Santiago  ;  and  after  spending  several  days  in  searching 
an  inconsiderable  creek  for  the  passage,  the  prudent  com- 
mander, finding  his  crew  infected  with  the  scurvy  to  an  alarm- 
ing degree,  and  dreading  the  rigor  of  the  advancing  season,, 
resolves  to  return.  Accordingly  he  sails  southward,  and  on 
the  fifteenth  of  September,  1779,  safely  moors  his  little  fleet  in 
the  harbor  of  San  Fernando.  The  return  of  this  expedition 
is  hailed  as  a  momentous  event  in  the  progress  of  the  conquest. 
While  the  civil  arm  is  thus  extending  itself  over  the  unex- 
plored wilderness,  the  spiritual  warriors  lose  none  of  their 


;> 


'."   s 


:  I 


276 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


ardor.    The  accession  of  laborers  and  the  abundant  supplies 
brought  by  the  Padre  President  enable  the  missionaries  to 
prosecute  their  holy  enterprise  with  renewed  energy.    New 
missions  are  founded,  the  old  ones  zealously  advanced.     Con- 
verts are  added  to  the    flock,  and   everything   encourages 
the   hearts  of   the  lonely  self-sacrificing  Padres.     In  the 
fall  of  the  year,  1775,  however,  a  most  diabolical  plot  is  laid 
and  partly  executed  by  the  unconverted  Indians  aided  by  two 
apostates,  for  attacking  San  Diego,  and  murdering  the  mis- 
sionaries and  other  white  persons.     The  onset  is  made  in  the 
dead  of  night,  by  two  strong  bands  of  armed  savages ;  and 
the  good  Padres,  all  unprepared  for  defence  as  they  are,  with 
their  feeble  force  of  a  few  soldiers  and  mechanics,  have  but 
a  small  chance  of  escape.     One  of  them,  the  Padre  Luis,  is 
cruelly  murdered  and  chopped  in  pieces,  and  Padre  Vincente 
is  dangerously  wounded.     A  whole  night  is  spent  in  this  pre- 
carious defence,  and  at  sunrise  the  Indians  retire,  carrying 
away  their  dead  and  wounded.    All  the  whites  are  wounded, 
some  of  their  buildings  are  burned,   and  their  peaceful  in- 
tercourse with  the  Indians  is  sadly  interrupted. 

The  Padre  President  at  Monterey  hears  of  this  calamity,  and 
resolves  to  proceed  at  once  to  San  Diego  to  repair,  as  he  best 
may,  the  misfortunes  of  his  brethren.  He  is  prevented  from 
reaching  them  until  June  of  the  following  year  ;  when  with 
the  aid  of  the  crew  of  the  Princesa,  he  re-builds  the  burned 
tenements,  and  by  his  influence  renews  the  amicable  inter- 
course of  the  mission  with  the  natives.  On  his  return,  he 
founds  the  mission  of  San  Juan  Capisirano.  Here  he  is  at- 
tacked by  hostile  Indians.  But  he  escapes  all  dangers,  en- 
dures all  trials,  and  on  reaching  Monterey,  prepares  to  establish 
the  mission  of  San  Francisco,  on  the  bay  of  that  name.  Great 
preparations  are  made  for  this  event.  Supplies  are  sent  to 
the  harbor  of  San  Francisco  in  one  of  the  packiet  boats,  and 
the  good  Padre  with  a  small  detachment  of  soldiers,  and  a 
number  of  families  with  cattle  and  mules  for  the  new  mission, 
leaves  Monterey  on  the  seventeenth  of  June,  1776.    Ten  days 


TRAVELS       IN'       THE       CALIFORNIAS 


277 


ys 


pass,  and  they  arrive  near  the  proposed  site  of  their  future 
home  on  the  banks  of  a  beautiful  lake  near  one  of  the  arms 
of  the  bay,  select  a  situation  for  the  Presidio,  and  cut  the  tim- 
ber to  erect  it.  The  natives,  meanwhile,  throng  around  to 
witness  their  labors  and  make  demonstrations  of  friendship. 
The  vessel  arrives  on  the  eighteenth  of  August.  The  work 
progresses,  and  on  the  seventeenth  of  September,  they  take 
solemn  possession  of  the  new  garrison.  The  holy  cross  is 
planted  above  the  peaceful  waters  of  the  bay,  and  the  silent 
hills  re-echo  the  chanting  of  the  Mass,  the  sublime  Te  Deum 
and  the  roar  of  artillery  and  musketry,  announcing  to  the 
untamed  tenants  of  the  wilderness,  the  dominion  at  once  of 
the  cross  and  the  sword.  The  same  ceremonies  attend  the  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  mission  on  the  ninth  of  the  following 
November.  These  objects  accomplished,  the  vessel  returns 
to  San  Bias. 

The  faithful  Padre  Junipero  continues  his  labors  without 
ceasing,  founding  in  addition  to  the  missions  already  named, 
those  of  Santa  Clara,  Santa  Barbara,  and  San  Buenaventura. 
But  his  efforts  draw  to  a  close.  He  has  thrown  the  gushing 
energies  of  a  warm  and  kind  heart  upon  the  arid  wilderness. 
Solitude,  famine,  heat  and  cold,  thirst  and  hunger,  have  been 
welcome  as  the  sole  conditions  under  which  he  could  perform 
his  errand  of  mercy  and  love  to  the  red  man.  And  now  that 
the  holy  cross  which  his  hands  have  planted,  gleams  heaven- 
ward from  the  dark  bosom  of  these  wastes,  and  devotion 
blends  its  gentle  tones  with  the  harsher  poeans  of  the  winds 
and  waves,  and  the  voices  of  human  industry,  the  good  Padre, 
worn  out  with  the  fatigues  and  anxieties  of  his  arduous  post, 
must  prepare  to  rest  from  his  labors.  The  hand  of  age  is 
upon  him  j  his  head  whitens ;  his  frame  bends  and  trembles ; 
his  steps  falter ;  he  leans  upon  his  younger  and  more  vigor- 
ous brethren  for  support ;  and  at  last  his  grateful  and  beloved 
spiritual  children,  the  sons  of  the  forest,  see  him  no  more.  He 
retires  to  die.  His  heart  clings  to  those  who  have  so  long 
lived  under  the  protection  of  his  fostering  hand,  and  the  last 
24 


I 


i:.! 


*;! 


f! 


278 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


beating  of  life  mingles  with  a  prayer  for  blessings  on  his  in- 
fant missions.  The  bereaved  Friars  watch  his  last  breath  and 
close  his  eyes  on  the  day  of  San  Augustine,  in  the  year  1782. 
His  life  has  been  nearly  seventy-one  years  long ;  fifty-three 
of  which  have  been  spent  in  holy  orders,  thirty-five  in  the 
stern  and  trying  duties  of  a  missionary  in  the  New  World. 
Thus  closed  the  life  and  earthly  labors  of  Padre  Junipero. 


NAMES  OF   MISSIONS,   AND 

DATES  OF   THEIR   FOUNDATION. 

Date  of  Foundation. 

Missions. 

1769, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Diego,     [dc  Monterey. 

1770, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Carmelo,  or  San  Carlos 

1771, 

- 

- 

- 

San  Gabriel. 

(( 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Antonio  de  Padua. 

1772, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Luis  Obispo. 

1776, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Juan  Capistrano. 

1777, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Clara. 

1779, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Francisco. 

1782, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Buenaventura. 

1786, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Barbara. 

1787, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

La  Purissima  Concepcion. 

1791, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Na  Sade  la  Soledad. 

1794, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Cruz. 

1797, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Miguel. 

u 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Jose. 

i( 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Juan  Bantista. 

tt 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Fernando. 

1798, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Luis  Rey  de  Francia. 

1817, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Rafael. 

1822, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Francisco  Solano. 

. 

. 

. 

m 

Santa  Ines. 

These  missions  at  length  became  very  rich,  and  from  1793 
to  1820  sold  an  immense  quantity  of  hides  and  tallow  to  Ame- 
rican and  British  ships  which  visited  the  coast.  An  anec- 
dote related  to  me  by  an  intelligent  man  in  California  is  in 
point.    Previous  to  1793  the  Padres  killed  the  surplus  bulls 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS 


279 


of  their  herds,  saving  the  hides,  and  leaving  the  tallow  to  rot 
on  the  plains ;  because  it  was  an  article  difficult  to  preserve 
until  foreign  ships  should  begin  to  visit  them  and  furnish  a 
market ;  and  thus  untold  quantities  of  it  were  lost.  One  of 
the  Padres,  however,  who  had  a  little  more  chemistry  and 
other  worldly  wisdom  than  his  brethren,  caused  his  Indians  to 
dig  a  very  large  and  deep  vat  in  the  earth  on  a  shaded  spot, 
and  line  it  well  with  brick  and  a  durable  cement,  in  which 
from  year  to  year,  as  his  bulls  were  killed,  he  stored  his  tal- 
low ;  and  thus  continued  to  do,  till  the  trading  ships  called  for 
the  deposit ;  when  it  was  found  that  his  vat  contained  tliree 
large  cargoes  of  excellent  tallow. 

The  cattle  in  the  missions  at  this  period  were  very  numerous. 
Most  of  them  had  from  eighty  to  one  hundred  thousand  each. 
They  also  had  bands  of  horses  and  other  kinds  of  stock  pro- 
portionably  large.  The  Padres  of  a  single  mission  not  unfre- 
quently  purchased  an  entire  cargo  of  goods  from  American 
merchants — and  such  were  the  known  resources  of  their  es- 
tablishments, and  their  uniform  punctuality  and  honesty,  that 
these  cargoes  were  frequently  delivered  to  the  priests  with 
no  other  securi'  y  than  their  verbal  promise  to  pay.  Indeed, 
these  old  Francii,?an  Friars,  who  entered  this  wilderness  clad 
in  their  grey  habits  with  sandals  on  their  feet  and  the  cross  in 
their  hands,  were  men  for  whose  equals  in  mental  power,  in 
physical  courage  and  moral  intrepidity,  we  shall  seek  in  vain 
in  these  days  of  vapid  benevolence,  of  organizations  which 
spend  their  money  in  sustaining  a  system  of  denunciation, 
instead  of  applying  it  with  day-laboring  energy  for  the  extir- 
pation of  the  evils  against  which  they  inveigh.  These  men  had 
not  made  addresses  before  the  assemblies  of  anniversary  occa- 
sions, but  had  wielded  the  pruning  hook  of  holy  truth  and  of 
the  principles  of  the  social  state,  and  of  the  refining  and  ex- 
alting virtues,  upon  the  unpruned  territories  of  degraded 
human  nature.  They  had  not  bewailed  the  woes  of  men  at 
the  point  of  a  goose-quill,  and  from  the  dark  walls  of  a  com- 
plaining heart  shut  up  in  an  indolent  body,  sent  forth  a  sack 


880 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


of  theories  for  alleviation,  which  the  world  must  adopt  before 
a  freezing  hand  can  be  warmed  or  a  hungry  mouth  filled. 
But  they  had  bared  their  hearts  to  the  arrow  of  the  savage 
and  gone  out  to  the  theatre  of  personal  labor,  driving  before 
them  domestic  animals  bearing  seed-grain,  the  plough,  the 
axe,  the  spinning-wheel  and  the  loom,  gathering  the  stupid 
wandering  Indians  into  communities,  rearing  the  edifices  of 
Christianity  and  the  family  condition  on  the  shore  of  that 
great  ocean  girded  with  heathenism  and  wretchedness,  opening 
its  unploughed  plains  and  training  them  to  yield  their  increase  to 
nourish  the  body — and  from  the  garner  of  Heaven  drawing  man- 
na for  the  soul.  They  did  not  teach  religion  only  and  at  all  times, 
and  rely  on  that  as  a  nutriment  for  the  rearing  and  comfort  of 
the  whole  man.  On  the  contrary,  they  recognized  in  the  human 
being  a  nature  allied  to  matter  as  well  as  spirit  j  with  faculties 
which  connect  him  as  a  material  existence  with  his  material 
abode,  and  powers  of  mind  which  were  made  to  teach  him 
his  relations  to  the  material  world,  as  well  as  those  which 
raise  the  hand  of  religious  faith  to  the  skies,  to  seize  the 
hope  of  the  after  world.  Like  knowing  and  reasoning,  as 
well  as  pious  men,  they  cared  for  the  bodies  as  well  as  the 
souls  of  those  whom  they  went  to  convert  to  Christianity. 
And  in  bringing  the  Californian  savages  into  that  industry 
which  must  always  accompany  true  virtue  and  piety,  the 
labor  of  the  converts  produced  in  that  climate,  where  so  little 
is  required  to  sustain  them  during  unproductive  seasons,  a  vast 
amount  of  surplus  wealth.  This  the  Padres  alone  were  capa- 
ble of  throwing  into  the  market ;  and  consequently,  at  the 
period  just  spoken  of,  the  business  of  the  Californias  received 
its  origin,  its  character  and  impulses  from  them.  Society  from 
them  took  its  form  and  its  tone ;  and  the  Government  of  the 
country  was  as  mild,  wise  and  just,  as  these  unpretending 
men  who  directed  its  action.  The  golden  age  was  this  of  the 
Californias.  The  Indians  in  the  whole  of  Lower,  and  that 
part  of  Upper  California  which  lies  between  the  first  range 
of  mountains  and  the  sea,  and  extending  from  San  Diego  to 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      C  A  L  I  !■  0  U  N  I  A  S  . 


277 


pass,  and  they  arrive  near  the  proposed  site  of  their  future 
home  on  the  banks'  of  a  beautiful  lake  near  one  of  the  arms 
of  the  bay,  select  a  situation  for  the  Presidio,  and  cut  the  tim- 
ber to  erect  it.  The  natives,  meanwhile,  throng  around  to 
witness  their  labors  and  make  demonstrations  of  friendship. 
The  vessel  arrives  on  the  eighteenth  of  August.  The  work 
progresses,  and  on  the  seventeenth  of  September,  they  take 
solemn  possession  of  the  new  garrison.  The  holy  cross  is 
planted  above  the  peaceful  waters  of  the  bay,  and  the  silent 
hills  re-echo  the  chanting  of  the  Mass,  the  sublime  Te  Deura 
and  the  roar  of  artillery  and  musketry,  announcing  to  the 
untamed  tenants  of  the  wilderness,  the  dominion  at  once  of 
the  cross  and  the  sword.  The  same  ceremonies  attend  the  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  mission  on  the  ninth  of  the  following 
November.  These  objects  accomplished,  the  vessel  returns 
to  San  Bias. 

The  faithful  Padre  Junipero  continues  his  labors  without 
ceasing,  founding  in  addition  to  the  missions  already  named, 
those  of  Santa  Clara,  Santa  Barbara,  and  San  Buenaventura. 
But  his  efforts  draw  to  a  close.  He  has  thrown  the  gushing 
energies  of  a  warm  and  kind  heart  upon  the  arid  wilderness. 
Solitude,  famine,  heat  and  cold,  thirst  and  hunger,  have  been 
welcome  as  the  sole  conditions  under  which  he  could  perform 
his  errand  of  mercy  and  love  to  the  red  man.  And  now  that 
the  holy  cross  which  his  hands  have  planted,  gleams  heaven- 
ward from  the  dark  bosom  of  these  wastes,  and  devotion 
blends  its  gentle  tones  with  the  harsher  poeans  of  the  winds 
and  waves,  and  the  voices  of  human  industry,  the  good  Padre, 
worn  out  with  the  fatigues  and  anxieties  of  his  arduous  post, 
must  prepare  to  rest  from  his  labors.  The  hand  of  age  is 
upon  him ;  his  head  whitens ;  his  frame  bends  and  trembles ; 
his  steps  falter ;  he  leans  upon  his  younger  and  more  vigor- 
ous brethren  for  support ;  and  at  last  his  grateful  and  beloved 
spiritual  children,  the  sons  of  the  forest,  see  him  no  more.  He 
retires  to  die.  His  heart  clings  to  those  who  have  so  long 
lived  under  the  protection  of  his  fostering  hand,  and  the  last 
24 


Vi 


I 

it  n 


II 


278 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


beating  of  life  mingles  with  a  prayer  for  blessings  on  his  in- 
fant missions.  The  bereaved  Friars  watcB  his  last  breath  and 
close  his  eyes  on  the  day  of  San  Augustine,  in  the  year  1782. 
His  life  has  been  nearly  seventy-one  years  long  ;  fifty-three 
of  which  have  been  spent  in  holy  orders,  thirty-five  in  the 
stern  and  trying  duties  of  a  missionary  in  the  New  World. 
Thus  closed  the  life  and  earthly  labors  of  Padre  Junipero. 


NAMES  OF   MISSIONS,   AND 

DATES   OF   THEIR   FOUNDATION. 

Date  of  Foundation. 

Missions. 

1769, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Diego,     [de  Monterey. 

1770, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Carmelo,  or  San  Carlos 

1771, 

- 

- 

- 

San  Gabriel. 

u 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Antonio  de  Padua. 

1772, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Luis  Obispo. 

1776, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Juan  Capistrano. 

1777, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Clara. 

1779, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Francisco. 

1782, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Buenaventura. 

1786, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Barbara. 

1787, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

La  Purissima  Concepcion. 

1791, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

NaSadelaSoledad. 

1794, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Santa  Cruz. 

1797, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Miguel. 

(t 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Jose. 

« 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Juan  Bantista. 

c< 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Fernando. 

1798, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Luis  Rey  de  Francia. 

1817, 

- 

- 

- 

- 

San  Rafael. 

1822, 

- 

- 

- 

m 

San  Francisco  Solano. 

- 

_ 

. 

. 

Santa  Ines. 

These  missions  at  length  became  very  rich,  and  from  1793 
to  1820  sold  an  immense  quantity  of  hides  and  tallow  to  Ame- 
rican and  British  ships  which  visited  the  coast.  An  anec- 
dote related  to  me  by  an  intelligent  man  in  California  is  in 
point.    Previous  to  1793  the  Padres  killed  the  surplus  bulls 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


279 


ri- 
nd 
12. 
ee 
he 
Id. 


ey. 
los 


93 

le- 

ec- 

in 

Llls 


of  their  herds,  saving  the  hides,  and  leaving  the  tallow  to  rot 
on  the  plains ;  because  it  was  an  article  difficult  to  preserve 
until  foreign  ships  should  begin  to  visit  them  and  furnish  a 
market ;  and  thus  untold  quantities  of  it  were  lost.  One  of 
the  Padres,  however,  who  had  a  little  more  chemistry  and 
other  worldly  wisdom  than  his  brethren,  caused  his  Indians)  to 
<lig  a  very  large  and  deep  vat  in  the  earth  on  a  shaded  spot, 
and  line  it  well  with  brick  and  a  durable  cement,  in  which 
from  year  to  year,  as  his  bulls  were  killed,  he  stored  his  tal- 
low ;  and  thus  continued  to  do,  till  the  trading  ships  called  for 
the  deposit ;  when  it  was  found  that  his  vat  contained  three 
large  cargoes  of  excellent  tallow. 

The  cattle  in  the  missions  at  this  period  were  very  numerous. 
Most  of  them  had  from  eighty  to  one  hundred  thousand  each. 
They  also  had  bands  of  horses  and  other  kinds  of  stock  pro- 
portionably  large.  The  Padres  of  a  single  mission  not  unfre- 
quently  purchased  an  entire  cargo  of  goods  from  American 
merchants — and  such  were  the  known  resources  of  their  es- 
tablishments, and  their  iiniform  punctuality  and  honesty,  that 
these  cargoes  were  frequently  delivered  to  the  priests  with 
no  other  security  than  their  verbal  promise  to  pay.  Indeed, 
these  old  Franciscan  Friars,  who  entered  this  wilderness  clad 
in  their  grey  habits  with  sandals  on  their  feet  and  the  cross  in 
their  hands,  were  men  for  whose  equals  in  mental  power,  in 
physical  courage  and  moral  intrepidity,  we  shall  seek  in  vain 
in  these  days  o£  vapid  benevolence,  of  organizations  which 
spend  their  money  in  sustaining  a  system  of  denunciation, 
instead  of  applying  it  with  day-laboring  energy  for  the  extir- 
pation of  the  evils  against  which  they  inveigh.  These  men  had 
not  made  addresses  before  the  assemblies  of  anniversary  occa- 
sions, but  had  wielded  the  pruning  hook  of  holy  truth  and  of 
the  principles  of  the  social  state,  and  of  the  refining  and  ex- 
alting virtues,  upon  the  unpruned  territories  of  degraded 
human  nature.  They  had  not  bewailed  the  woes  of  men  at 
the  point  of  a  goose-quill,  and  from  the  dark  walls  of  a  com- 
plaining heart  shut  up  in  an  indolent  body,  sent  forth  a  sack 


280 


SCENES 


T  II  K       PACIFIC 


of  theories  for  alleviation,  which  the  world  must  adopt  before 
a  freezing  hand  can  be  warmed  or  a  hun<^ry  mouth  fdled. 
But  they  had  bared  their  hearts  to  the  arrow  of  the  savage 
and  gone  out  to  the  theatre  of  personal  labor,  driving  before 
them  domestic  animals  bearing  seed-grain,  the  plough,  the 
axe,  the  spinning-wheel  and  the  loom,  gathering  the  stupid 
wandering  Indians  into  communities,  rearing  the  edifices  of 
Christianity  and  the  family  condition  on  the  shore  of  that 
great  ocean  girded  with  heathenism  and  wretchedness,  opening 
its  unploughed  plains  and  training  them  to  yield  their  increase  to 
nourish  the  body — and  from  the  garner  of  Heaven  drawing  man- 
na for  the  soul.  They  did  not  teach  religion  only  and  at  all  times, 
and  rely  on  that  as  a  nutriment  for  the  rearing  and  comfort  of 
the  whole  man.  On  the  contrary,  they  recognized  in  the  human 
being  a  nature  allied  to  matter  as  well  as  spirit;  with  faculties 
which  connect  him  as  a  material  existence  with  his  material 
abode,  and  powers  of  mind  which  were  made  to  teach  him 
his  relations  to  the  material  world,  as  well  as  those  which 
raise  the  hand  of  religious  faith  to  the  skies,  to  seize  the 
hope  of  the  after  world.  Like  knowing  and  reasoning,  as 
well  as  pious  men,  they  cared  for  the  bodies  as  well  as  the 
souls  of  those  whom  they  went  to  convert  to  Christianity. 
And  in  bringing  the  Californian  savages  into  that  industry 
which  must  always  accompany  true  virtue  and  piety,  the 
labor  of  the  converts  produced  in  that  climate,  where  so  little 
is  required  to  sustain  them  during  unproductive  seasons,  a  vast 
amount  of  surplus  wealth.  This  the  Padres  alone  were  capa- 
ble of  throwing  into  the  market ;  and  consequently,  at  the 
period  just  spoken  of,  the  business  of  the  Californias  received 
its  origin,  its  character  and  impulses  from  them.  Society  from 
them  took  its  form  and  its  tone ;  and  the  Government  of  the 
country  was  as  mild,  wise  and  just,  as  these  unpretending 
men  who  directed  its  action.  The  golden  age  was  this  of  the 
Californias.  The  Indians  in  the  whole  of  Lower,  and  that 
part  of  Upper  California  which  lies  between  the  first  range 
of  mountains  and  the  sea,  and  extending  from  San  Diego  to 


!i 


T  n  A  V  r.  I,  s     IN     Til  i:     c  a  m  i'  o  u  n  i  a  s 


285 


the  missions,  and  the  Pailres  resident  commanded  to  in- 
struct tliem  in  the  Indian  langua«5cs  and  other  matters 
which  would  prepare  them  to  supplant  their  teachers.  The  in- 
fluence and  usefulness  of  these  excellent  r.ien  was,  by  these 
measures,  rapidly  uiulerniined,  till  the  year  1827,  when  two 
of  them.  Padres  llepol  and  Altemira,  of  the  mission  Santa 
Barbara,  fearing  for  tliea  personal  safety,  secretly  left  the 
country  in  an  American  vessel  bound  to  Boston,  anil  sailed 
from  that  city  to  Spain.  In  the  year  1835,  others  left  with 
passports  from  Government,  and  went  through  Mexico  to 
Spain ;  and  others,  worn  out  with  labor  and  sorrow,  died  in 
the  country  and  were  buried  under  the  churches  of  their 
missions. 

In  the  same  year  a  body  of  Franciscan  monks  from  the  Col- 
lege at  Zacatecas,  were  sent  into  the  Californias  by  the  Gov- 
ernment. To  these  were  assigned  the  rich  missions  lying 
north  of  San  Antonio,  The  old  Padres  retained  the  poorer  ones 
lying  to  the  South.  Thither  these  good  old  priests  retired, 
banished  from  the  missions  they  had  reared,  and  deprived  of 
the  means  of  comfort  which  they  had  procured ;  and  now,  in 
those  inhospitable  places,  they  continue  to  perform  their  spirit- 
ual functions,  deprived  in  their  old  age  not  only  of  the  com- 
forts, but  of  the  very  necessaries  of  life.  Aged  men,  tottering 
grey-headed  men ;  men  who  had  in  youth  left  the  abodes  of 
civilized  life ;  who  had  forsaken  father,  mother,  kindred,  and 
for  forty  years  toiled  in  the  Califoraian  wilderness;  plough- 
ed the  soil,  built  churches  and  dwellings ;  brought  into  life, 
justice  and  hope  and  music  and  prayer  to  the  God  of  the  Uni- 
verse ;  under  whose  hands  the  trees  of  vktue  and  civilisa- 
tion flourished,  adorning  the  hitherto  barren  wastes  of  mat- 
ter and  soul ;  such  were  the  men  condemned  by  a  selfish 
anarchy  to  wretchedness  and  want.  But  a  policy  so  blind 
brings  evil  as  its  legitimate  result. 

In  1835,  the  whole  power  of  the  priests  over  the  temporal 
affairs  of  these  establishments,  in  both  the  Californias,  was 
transferred  to  officers  of  government  called  Administradores. 


M 


,«.; 


286 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


% 


One  of  these  was  located  at  each  mission.  Their  duties  osten* 
sibly  were  to  farm  them  for  the  benefit  of  the  converts,  in  order 
to  allow  the  Padres  their  whole  time  for  their  spiritual  labors. 
But  the  actual  object  of  this  measure  was  to  bring  the  income 
and  property  of  the  missions  within  the  grasp  of  the  hungry 
leaches  of  the  Californian  Government.  For,  immediately  after 
the  appointment  of  these  officers  their  wants  became  pressing, 
and  they  began  to  send  orders  for  hides,  &c.,  to  the  Adminis- 
tradores,  which  were  uniformly  honored  and  passed  to  the  credit 
of  the  missions. 

Thirty  thousand  hides  and  as  many  arohas  of  tallow,  had 
been  the  annual  export  of  this  country ;  but  now,  a  slaughter 
of  the  animals  commenced,  which  surpassed  the  annual  in- 
crease J  and  the  Padres  encouraged  the  defrauded  Indians  at 
the  yearly  branding,  to  let  many  go  unmarked  and  run  wild, 
in  anticipation  of  the  approaching  period,  when  tyranny  would 
drive  them  from  their  homes  to  the  wilderness.  The  effects 
of  these  measures  were  to  decrease  the  number  of  cattle  and 
the  amount  of  the  products  of  the  missions,  paralyze  the  in- 
dustry, deteriorate  the  morals  of  the  whole  community,  and 
introduce  in  the  place  of  the  mild  and  paternal  government  of 
the  Padres,  the  oppressive  anarchy  of  a  weak  and  cruel  mili- 
tary despotism ;  the  more  despicable  in  itself,  as  it  proceeded 
from  a  source  where  liberty  and  equality  was  the  theory,  and 
slavery  and  robbery  the  practice  of  the  governing  class. 

In  the  year  1836,  a  quarrel  arose  between  the  Mexican  Go- 
vernor at  Monterey,  and  a  custom-house  officer  by  the  name  of 
Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado,  in  regard  to  the  division  of  certain  bribes 
which  had  been  paid  to  the  officers  by  the  supercargo  of  a  for- 
eign ship,  as  a  remuneration  for  entering  upon  the  government 
books  only  half  of  the  cargo,  and  admitting  the  remainder  for  a 
certain  sum  in  specie  and  goods,  paid  to  themselves;  and  the  first 
result  of  the  difficulty  was  a  revolutionary  movement  under 
Alvarado  and  Graham,  as  I  have  heretofore  related.  But  it  is 
necessary  here  to  add  that,  after  the  surrender  of  the  Mexican 
authorities,  the  foreigners  and  Californian  Spaniards  assembled 


'M'i''< 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS 


287 


at  Monterey  and  passed  these  resolutions  as  the  basis  of  a  pro- 
visional government. 

1st.  Upper  California  is  declared  to  be  independent  of  Mex- 
ico during  the  non-re-establishment  of  the  Federal  system, 
which  was  adopted  in  1824. 

2d.  The  said  California  shall  be  erected  into  a  free  and 
governing  state,  establishing  a  congress  which  shall  dictate  all 
the  particular  laws  of  the  country,  and  elect  the  other  supreme 
powers  necessary,  declaring  the  "  Actual  Most  Excellent  De- 
putation Constituent."      # 

3d.  The  Religion  shall  be  the  Roman  Catholic  Apostolic, 
without  admitting  the  exercise  of  any  other ;  but  the  govern- 
ment will  not  molest  any  persons  for  their  particular  religious 
opinions. 

4th.  A  Constitution  shall  regulate  all  the  branches  of  the 
Administration  "  provisionally,"  in  conformity  as  much  as 
possible  with  the  expressed  declaration. 

5th.  Until  what  is  contained  in  the  foregoing  articles  be 
put  in  execution,  Senor  Don  Guadalupe  Vallejo  shall  be 
called  to  act  as  Commandante  General. 

6th.  The  President  of  the  "  Most  Excellent  Deputation" 
shall  pass  the  necessary  communications  to  the  municipalities 
of  the  Territory. 

These  proceedings  were  followed  by  the  banishment  of  the 
Mexican  Governor,  officers  and  soldiers  from  the  country; 
the  proclamation  of  Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado,  Civil  Governor, 
and  his  uncle,  Senor  Don  Mariano  Guadalupe  Vallejo,  Military 
Governor,  or  Commandante  of  the  "  Republic  of  Upper  Cali- 
fornia." 

Meantime  this  new  Government  had  placed  the  seal  of  final 
ruin  upon  the  missions.  The  official  corps  which  had  formerly 
drawn  salaries  from  the  Central  Government  at  Mexico 
was  now  dependent  upon  the  resources  of  the  country.  The 
Revolutionists  and  Lawgivers  owned  large  plantations,  many 
of  which  grazed  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  head  of  cattle,  besides 
horses,  mules,  sheep,  &c.    But  these  were  private  property. 


:£. 


lil 


288 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


;ili-: 


not  to  be  taxed  for  public  purposes  by  these  self-denying 
patriots.     The  missions,  therefore,  were  resorted  to  for  the 
means  of  supporting  the  Californian  Government  during  the 
years  1836,  1837,  and  1838 ;  and  sad  was  the  havoc  made 
upon  them  by  those  base  descendants  of  the  Chivalry  of  Spain. 
As  soon  as  information  of  this  Revolution  in  Upper  Cali- 
fornia reached  Mexico,  the  Central  Government,  with  Busta- 
mente  at  its  head,  and  a  kennel  of  worthless  cowards  to  bark, 
but  never  to  bite  at  approaching  danger,  raised,  as  is  the 
custom  of  that  hybrid  nation  of  Indian  and  Spanish  Don  Quix- 
ote-Sancho-Panza-Rosinante-Windmill-Furiosos,     on     such 
occasions,  an  army  of  fulminating  proclamations  to  the  citi- 
zens of  La  Republica  Mexicana,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
universe,  to  arm   themselves  and  proceed  in  terrible  array, 
dealing  death  elbow-deep  in  annihilation,  against  these  auda- 
cious and  unnatural  sons  of  the  great,  brave,  free,  glorious, 
and  never-to-be-insulted  or  conquered  nation  of  Mexico.  But 
these  Californians  were  true,  at  least,  to  the  weakness  and  fol- 
lies of  their  Spanish  blood.    Nowhere  on  the  vast  plains 
and  mountains  of  one-half  of  this  continent  is  there  anything 
Spanish,  whether  negro,  Indian,  mulatto,  or  mestizo,  in  which 
may  be  found  anything  stable  and  bloodless.    The  character 
of  these  people  may  be  summed  up  in  these  few  words :  vola- 
tility, ignorance,  stupidity  and  pride,  coupled  with  the  basest 
and  most  cowardly  cruelty.    Their  very  language  is  a  furious 
hyperbole,  and  their  entire  nature  as  a  people,  is  the  superlative 
degree  of  the  adjective  frothy,  without  a  substantive  of  any 
sort  to  qualify.     The  lofty  chivalry  of  Spain  was  buried  in  the 
tombs  of  the  American  discoverers  and  conquerors.   Its  corslet 
and  spear  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  their  Indio-Spanish 
descendants ;  and  a  more  worthless  rabble  of  bastards  never 
assumed  the  name  of  nation. 

See  these  Californians.  No  sooner  had  they  declared  their 
independence  and  rid  themselves  of  the  officers  from 
Mexico,  than  they  divided  into  two  parties ;  the  one  in  the 
North  under  Alvarado  of  Monterey  asserting  complete  inde- 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


285 


the  missions,  and  the  Padres  resident  commanded  to  in- 
struct them  in  the  Indian  languages  and  other  matters 
which  would  prepare  them  to  supplant  their  teachers.  The  in- 
fluence and  usefulness  of  these  excellent  men  was,  by  these 
measures,  rapidly  undermined,  till  the  year  1827,  when  two 
of  them.  Padres  Repol  and  Altemira,  of  the  mission  Santa 
Barbara,  fearing  for  their  personal  safety,  secretly  left  the 
country  in  an  American  vessel  bound  to  Boston,  and  sailed 
from  that  city  to  Spain.  In  the  year  1835,  others  left  with 
passports  from  Government,  and  went  through  Mexico  to 
Spain ;  and  others,  worn  out  with  labor  and  sorrow,  died  in 
the  country  and  were  buried  under  the  churches  of  their 
missions. 

In  the  same  year  a  body  of  Franciscan  monks  from  the  Col- 
lege at  Zacatecas,  were  sent  into  the  Californias  by  the  Gov- 
ernment. To  these  were  assigned  the  rich  missions  lying 
north  of  San  Antonio.  The  old  Padres  retained  the  poorer  ones 
lying  to  the  South.  Thither  these  good  old  priests  retired, 
banished  from  the  missions  they  had  reared,  and  deprived  of 
the  means  of  comfort  which  they  had  procured ;  and  now,  in 
those  inhospitable  places,  they  continue  to  perform  their  spirit- 
ual functions,  deprived  in  their  old  age  not  only  of  the  com- 
forts, but  of  the  very  necessaries  of  life.  Aged  men,  tottering 
grey-headed  men ;  men  who  had  in  youth  left  the  abodes  of 
civilized  life ;  who  had  forsaken  father,  mother,  kindred,  and 
for  forty  years  toiled  in  the  Californian  wilderness ;  plough- 
ed the  soil,  built  churches  and  dwelUngs ;  brought  into  life, 
justice  and  hope  and  music  and  prayer  to  the  God  of  the  Uni- 
verse ;  under  whose  hands  the  trees  of  virtue  and  civilisa- 
tion flourished,  adorning  the  hitherto  barren  wastes  of  mat- 
ter and  soul ;  such  were  the  men  condemned  by  a  selfish 
anarchy  to  wretchedness  and  want.  But  a  policy  so  blind 
brings  evil  as  its  legitimate  result. 

In  1835,  the  whole  power  of  the  priests  over  the  temporal 
affairs  of  these  establishments,  in  both  the  Californias,  was 
transferred  to  officers  of  government  called  Administradores. 


i! 


ii    f 


286 


SCENES     IN      THE      PACIFIC 


One  of  these  was  located  at  each  mission.  Their  duties  osten- 
sibly were  to  farm  them  for  the  benefit  of  the  converts,  in  order 
to  allow  the  Padres  their  whole  time  for  their  spiritual  labors. 
But  the  actual  object  of  this  measure  was  to  bring  the  income 
and  property  of  the  missions  within  the  grasp  of  the  hungry 
leaches  of  the  Californian  Government.  For,  immediately  after 
the  appointment  of  these  officers  their  wants  became  pressing, 
and  they  began  to  send  orders  for  hides,  &c.,  to  the  Adminis- 
tradores,  which  were  uniformly  honored  and  passed  to  the  credit 
of  the  missions. 

Thirty  thousand  hides  and  as  many  arolas  of  tallow,  had 
been  the  annual  export  of  this  country ;  but  now^  a  slaughter 
of  the  animals  commenced,  which  surpassed  the  annual  in- 
crease ;  and  the  Padres  encouraged  the  defrauded  Indians  at 
the  yearly  branding,  to  let  many  go  unmarked  and  run  wild, 
in  anticipation  of  the  approaching  period,  when  tyranny  would 
drive  them  from  their  homes  to  the  wilderness.  The  effects 
of  these  measures  were  to  decrease  the  number  of  cattle  and 
the  amount  of  the  products  of  the  missions,  paralyze  the  in- 
dustry, deteriorate  the  ndorals  of  the  whole  community,  and 
introduce  in  the  place  of  the  mild  and  paternal  government  of 
the  Padres,  the  oppressive  anarchy  of  a  weak  and  cruel  mili- 
tary despotism ;  the  more  despicable  in  itself,  as  it  proceeded 
from  a  source  where  liberty  and  equality  was  the  theory,  and 
slavery  and  robbery  the  practice  of  the  governing  class. 

In  the  year  1836,  a  quarrel  arose  between  the  Mexican  Go- 
vernor at  Monterey,  and  a  custom-house  officer  by  the  name  of 
Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado,  in  regard  to  the  division  of  certain  bribes 
which  had  been  paid  to  the  officers  by  the  supercargo  of  a  for- 
eign ship,  as  a  remuneration  for  entering  upon  the  government 
books  only  half  of  the  cargo,  and  admitting  the  remainder  for  a 
certain  sum  in  specie  and  goods,  paid  to  themselves;  and  the  first 
result  of  the  difficulty  was  a  revolutionary  movement  under 
Alvarado  and  Graham,  as  I  have  heretofore  related.  But  it  is 
necessary  here  to  add  that,  after  the  surrender  of  the  Mexican 
authorities,  the  foreigners  and  Cahfornian  Spaniards  assembled 


|| 


\ 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


287 


at  Monterey  and  passed  these  resolutions  as  the  basis  of  a  pro- 
visional government. 

1st.  Upper  California  is  declared  to  be  independent  of  Mex- 
ico during  the  non-re-establishment  of  the  Federal  system, 
which  was  adopted  in  1824. 

2d.  The  said  California  shall  be  erected  into  a  free  and 
governing  state,  establishing  a  congress  which  shall  dictate  all 
the  particular  laws  of  the  country,  and  elect  the  other  supreme 
powers  necessary,  declaring  the  "  Actual  Most  Excellent  De- 
putation Constituent." 

3d.  The  Religion  shall  be  the  Roman  Catholic  Apostolic, 
without  admitting  the  exA'cise  of  any  other ;  but  the  govern- 
ment will  not  molest  any  persons  for  their  particular  religious 
opinions. 

4th.  A  Constitution  shall  regulate  all  the  branches  of  the 
Administration  "provisionally,"  in  conformity  as  much  as 
possible  with  the  expressed  declaration. 

5th.  Until  what  is  contained  in  the  foregoiiig  articles  be 
put  in  execution,  Senor  Don  Guadalupe  Vallejo  shall  be 
called  to  act  as  Commandante  General. 

6th.  The  President  of  the  "Most  Excellent  Deputation" 
shall  pass  the  necessary  communications  to  the  municipalities 
of  the  Territory. 

These  proceedings  were  followed  by  the  banishment  of  the 
Mexican  Governor,  officers  and  soldiers  from  the  country; 
the  proclamation  of  Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado,  Civil  Governor, 
and  his  uncle,  Senor  Don  Mariano  Guadalupe  Vallejo,  Military 
Governor,  or  Commandante  of  the  "  Republic  of  Upper  Cali- 
fornia." 

Meantime  this  new  Government  had  placed  the  seal  of  final 
ruiu  upon  the  missions.  The  official  corps  which  had  formerly 
drawn  salaries  from  the  Central  Government  at  Mexico 
was  now  dependent  upon  the  resources  of  the  country.  The 
Revolutionists  and  Lawgivers  owned  large  plantations,  many 
of  which  grazed  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  head  of  cattle,  besides 
horses,  mules,  sheep,  &c.    But  these  were  private  property. 


ill 


288 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


If 


not  to  be  taxed  for  public  purposes  by  these  self-denying 
patriots.    The  missions,  therefore,  were  resorted  to  for  the 
means  of  supporting  the  Californian  Government  during  the 
years  1836,  1837,  and  1838 ;  and  sad  was  the  havoc  made 
upon  them  by  those  base  descendants  of  the  Chivalry  of  Spain. 
As  soon  as  information  of  this  Revolution  in  Upper  Cali- 
fornia reached  Mexico,  the  Central  Government,  with  Busta- 
mente  at  its  head,  and  a  kennel  of  worthless  cowards  to  bark, 
but  never  to  bite  at  approaching  danger,  raised,  as  is  the 
custom  of  that  hybrid  nation  of  Indian  and  Spanish  Don  Quix- 
ote-Sancho-Panza-Rosinante-Windmill-Furiosos,     on     such 
occasions,  an  army  of  fulminating 'Iproclamations  to  the  citi- 
zens of  La  Republica  Mexicana,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
universe,  to  arm  themselves  and  proceed  in  terrible  array, 
dealing  death  elbow-deep  in  annihilation,  against  these  auda- 
cious and  unnatural  sons  of  the  great,  brave,  free,  glorious, 
and  never-to-be-insulted  or  conquered  nation  of  Mexico.  But 
these  Californians  were  true,  at  least,  to  the  weakness  and  fol- 
lies of  their  Spanish  blood.    Nowhere  on  the  vast  plains 
and  mountains  of  one-half  of  this  continent  is  there  anything 
Spanish,  whether  negro,  Indian,  mulatto,  or  mestizo,  in  which 
may  be  found  anything  stable  and  bloodless.    The  character 
of  these  people  may  be  summed  up  in  these  few  words :  vola- 
tility, ignorance,  stupidity  and  pride,  coupled  with  the  basest 
and  most  cowardly  cruelty.    Their  very  language  is  a  furious 
hyperbole,  and  their  entire  nature  as  a  people,  is  the  superlative 
degree  of  the  adjective  frothy,  without  a  substantive  of  any 
sort  to  qualify.    The  lofty  chivalry  of  Spain  was  buried  in  the 
tombs  of  the  American  discoverers  and  conquerors.  Its  corslet 
and  spear  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  their  Indio-Spanish 
descendants ;  and  a  more  worthless  rabble  of  bastards  never 
assumed  the  name  of  nation. 

See  these  Californians.  No  sooner  nad  they  declared  their 
independence  and  rid  themselves  of  the  officers  from 
Mexico,  than  they  divided  into  two  parties ;  the  one  in  the 
North  under  Alvarado  of  Montwey  asserting  complete  inde- 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


289 


in 


the 
ide- 


pendcnce  of  Mexico ;  and  the  one  in  the  South  under  Don 
Carlos  Antonio  Carrillo,  seeking  to  unite  the  country  again  to 
the  parent  State.  And  a  blight  of  idiocy  must  have  fallen  on 
that  mind  which  cannot  perceive  in  the  events  that  ensued, 
the  terrific  tread  of  ^)ppressed  human  nature,  when,  clad  in 
the  armor  of  its  own  avenging  power,  it  goes  forth  to  the 
conquest  of  its  rights.  The  Ides  of  March  !  How  ominous ! 
Csesaf  quailed  in  March !  And  how  much  more  ought  all 
the  enemies  of  the  great  Alvarado's  supremacy  to  have  shaken 
from  heel  to  crown,  when,  on  the  fifLh  of  that  dreadful  month 
of  March,  he  announced  to  his  troops  that  Don  Pedro,  the 
Russian  Governor  at  Bodega,  had  received  letters  from  St. 
Petersburg,  containing  news  that  France  and  England  had 
resolved  to  place  Iturbide  II.,  son  of  the  Emperor  Iturbide  L, 
upon  the  throne  of  Mexico ! !  The  reader  may  almost  see 
His  Excellency's  wrath  kindling  at  this  proposed  encroach- 
ment on  the  liberties  of  nations.  "  What,  France  and  Eng- 
land pretend  to  foist  a  monarch  upon  the  people  of  Mexico, 
and  even  upon  His  Excellency  of  California !" — and  that  too 
while  he  was  Governor  1  Such  impudence,  if  it  were  not 
"  ridiculously  impotent  as  against  Mexico,  would  be  found  so 
in  regard  to  California ! !"  And  to  this  effort  at  patriotism 
and  self-complacency,  see  his  heroic  Californians  emitting 
some  fumes  of  bravery,  accompanied  with  a  series  of  consola- 
tory threats,  stamping  their  feet  on  the  Lord's  footstool,  and 
strongly  grasping  their  swords,  looking  things  unutterable 
enough  to  put  a  notable  end  to  the  hopes  of  Iturbide  II. 
During  this  daring  demonstration  for  freedom,  Alvarado  is 
universally  believed  to  have  stood  firmly  at  his  post,  and  un- 
shrinkingly done  his  duty.  The  Don  in  the  South  also  is 
reported  not  to  have  lost  a  meal  of  beans  on  account  of  this 
startling  intelligence.  Courage  in  California,  as  elsewhere, 
is  a  fine  tonic  for  weak  nerves.  The  event  too  which  suc- 
ceeded this  in  the  history  of  the  Californias  found  both  these 
worthies  in  the  field  of  glory.  So  that  if  some  ignorant  reader 
should  presume  to  say,  at  this  point  of  our  narration,  that  the 
25 


290 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


•Il 


Don  was  less  brave,  patriotic,  or  in  any  other  sense  less  a 
Californian  cavallero,  than  Alvarado,  he  is  desired  to  suspend 
the  expression  of  such  an  unworthy  opinion  until  he  shall 
have  read  the  following  account  of  a  campaign  which,  I  am 
credibly  informed,  is  considered  by  the  Warriors  of  that  coun- 
try the  most  remarkably  glorious  on  record. 

In  the  spring  of  1838,  a  courier  arrived  from  Santa  Bar- 
bara, bearing  a  message  of  mighty  import  from  the  illustrious 
Don  Carlos  Antonio  Carrillo  to  Alvarado  the  Conqueror. 
Its  purport  was  that  the  high — mighty — ^invincible — and 
ever-to-be-dreaded  Central  Government  at  Mexico,  had  bared 
its  puissant  arm,  stretched  it  out,  raised  it  up,  brought  it  down, 
and  at  a  single  blow,  made  and  put  together  a  gentleman 
Don,  to  wit,  Don  Carlos  Antonio  Carrillo,  and  constituted 
him  the  Goubernador  del  Alta  California:  and  with  the  ex- 
ercise of  the  like  resistless  powf r  had  ordered  the  said  Alva- 
rado— ^villain — robber — slave — to  surrender,  lay  down,  and 
for  ever  after  eschew  the  sceptre  of  Goubernador  del  Alta 
California ;  unto  which  message  His  Excellency,  in  the  true 
Castilian  spirit,  and  with  as  much  good  sense  as  any  one  had 
a  right  to  expect  of  him,  Alvarado  the  Conqueror,  replied. 
**  On  seeing  the  commission  of  my  successor,  and  on  finding 
it  conformable  to  the  usages  of  the  Nation ;  and  on  obtaining 
from  him  my  said  successor,  a  guaranty  of  safety  to  my  per- 
son and  property,  and  also  to  the  persons  and  property  of 
those  who  acted  with  me  in  the  Revolution  of  1836, 1  will 
resign  the  reins  of  government  into  the  hands  of  my  illustri- 
ous uncle.  Otherwise  not — ^never!"  This  response  of  the 
lofty  Alvarado  was  soon  en  route  towards  the  dwelling-place 
of  the  Don.  But  the  mountainous  character  of  the  country 
over  which  its  bearer  passed  retarded  its  speed  so  much  that 
the  sixth  day  had  well  nigh  closed  before  the  indignation  of 
that  exalted  man  was  fired  at  the  story  of  Alvarado*s  inso- 
lence. It  was  fortunate,  undoubtedly,  that  so  much  time  was 
allowed  to  elapse  between  the  development  of  the  courage 
necessary  to  enable  the  Don  to  send  the  messenger  to  Alva- 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALirORNIAS. 


291 


72l' 


rado,  and  that  effort  of  sublime  forbearance  required  to  re- 
ceive his  answer.  For  it  is  deemed  an  established  principle 
in  the  physiology  of  courage  as  well  as  of  steamboats,  that 
too  great  a  pressure  upon  the  internal  surface  of  an  enclosing 
boiler  will  cause  a  bursting,  disastrous,  in  a  certain  sense,  to 
those  in  the  vicinity.  Soldiers  going  into  battle  for  the  first 
time  are  said  to  give  the  happiest  illustrations  of  this  law. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  true  it  is,  that  wlien  the  courier 
related  to  him  all  that  the  Governor  had  said,  the  exalted 
Don  exhibited  a  capacity  in  the  manufacture  of  fury  at  short 
notice,  which  made  the  floor  tremble  on  which  he  stood ;  and 
it  is  currently  believed  that  if  there  had  not  been  a  hiatus  be- 
tween the  demand  of  the  Don  and  the  said  refusal  of  Alva- 
rado,  greater  danger  to  the  integrity  of  the  Don's  physical 
system  would  have  been  the  unwholesome  consequence.  As 
it  was,  however,  that  immense  personage  merely  took  a  glass 
of  native  wine,  and  summoned  his  friends  to  arms  for  doing 
battle  in  behalf  of  La  Republica  Mexicana. 
I  Alarm,  that  protecting  genius  of  all  cowards,  is  declared  to 
have  a  svrift  wing.  At  all  events,  no  sooner  did  the  banner 
of  the  glorious  old  Don  begin  to  flap  on  the  breezes  of  wake- 
ful night,  than  she  presented  her  fluttering  form  at  Monterey, 
and  whispered  in  the  ear  of  Alvarado,  of  power,  of  camps, 
of  carnage  fields,  of  fame's  bold  clarion,  and  the  terror  of 
his  uncle  Don.  All  these  things  put  together  made  one 
other  thing  quite  clear  to  Alvarado's  vast  comprehension ; 
namely,  that  he  must  again  take  to  the  field — the  field  in 
which  in  1836  he  had  earned  bright  laurels,  and  again  fight 
as  he  then  did,  for  country  and  freedom,  or  bow  submissively 
before  the  overpowering  valor  of  his  great  rival.  Nor  was 
his  genius  at  fault  in  this  trying  exigency.  He  took  his  reso- 
lution ;  and  having  done  so,  what  else  could  the  world  have 
expected,  than  that  his  Excellency  and  the  never-to-be- 
equalled  Captain  Jose- Castro,  of  villainous  memory,  should 
call  the  troops  to  arms  and  march  for  the  seat  of  war.  And 
this  they  certainly  did  as  nearly  as  circumstances  permitted ; 


li 


292 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


i!J 


that  is  to  say,  Alvarado  remained  in  Monterey,  three  hun- 
dred miles  from  powder  and  ball,  and  Jose  Castro  marched 
towards  Santa  Barbara  with  an  army  of  six  men. 

The  Don  meanwhile  was  not  inactive.  He  wisely  deter- 
mined, as  a  first  step,  to  take  military  possession  of  Santa 
Barbara.  Accordingly,  from  the  balcony  of  his  habitation, 
which  the  foreign  residents  had  fitted  up  for  him  at  El  Pueblo 
de  los  Angelos,  he  gave  notice  to  his  veteran  army  assem- 
bled one  hundred  strong,  that  he  should  march  immediately 
upon  that  devoted  town  and  sack  it  according  to  the  ndes  of 
war.  After  a  long  aijd  tedious  forced  march  on  horseback, 
of  thirty  miles,  in  a  single  day,  over  a  grassy  and  undulating 
country,  during  which  they  endured  more,  if  possible,  than 
their  forefathers  did  in  all  their  wars  with  the  Moors,  they 
arrived  on  the  20th  of  March,  1838,  upon  a  hill  about  two 
miles  from  that  village,  encamped,  held  a  council  of  war,  and 
humanely  determined  to  send  in  a  flag,  and  an  expression  of 
their  unwillingness  to  shed  blood;  but  the  messenger  was 
especially  instructed  to  announce,  that  the  town  of  Santa 
Barbara  must  be  surrendered,  or  the  veteran  army  would  take 
possession  of  it,  if,  in  so  doing,  they  "  trode  at  every  step 
upon  the  pulseless  hearts  of  the  dying  inhabitants  !'* 

The  Commandant  of  the  place  was  not  so  much  frightened 
by  this  announcement  as  he  ought  to  have  been.  But,  on 
the  contrar}',  knowing  probably  that  the  old  Don  was  a  man 
of  his  word  and  not  of  deed,  sent  back  the  following  reply. 
"  Senor  Carlos  Antonio  Carrillo  had  better  not  be  in  haste  to 
enter  Santa  Barbara.  Alvarado  will  soon  make  his  grand 
entrance.  If,  however,  the  Don  should  deem  it  his  duty  to 
sack  Santa  Barbara,  it  will  be  mine  to  yield  t>  the  disagree- 
able necessity  of  preventing  such  a  catastrophe,  by  firing  on 
his  ranks  and  destroying  the  lives  of  fellow-countrymen.  God 
and  Liberty !"  This  message  was  more  terrific  than  satisfac- 
tory to  the  commander  of  the  invading  army.  But  as  night 
soon  cast  its  protecting  mantle  over  the  fierce  brows  of  the 
immortal  one  hundred,  it  was  never  known  to  the  fullest 


TRAVELS      Ilf      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


293 


extent  how  much  heroism  thoy  exhibited  when  ordered  into 
quarters  for  the  night,  with  the  injunction  to  hold  themselves 
ready  for  the  dreadful  work  of  death  at  a  moment's  warning. 
It  is  however  known  that  a  mounted  picket  guard  was  sta- 
tioned on  the  hills,  and  a  strong  patrol  along  the  ravines, 
between  the  camp  and  the  town,  and  that  all.  Napoleon-like, 
slept  upon  the  eve  of  vast  events ;  that  the  next  morning 
dawned ;  the  earth  turned  on  its  axis,  showed  the  sun  and  hid 
it  again ;  and  that  the  army  of  the  Don  neither  left  its  en- 
campment, nor  took  possession  of  Santa  Barbara ;  and  that 
night  came  again ;  that  patrols  and  pickets  were  stationed  as 
before.    But  such  apparent  inaction  was  not  to  contir'ue 

On  the  morning  of  the  23d,  a  movement  clearly  showed  that 
irresolution  was  no  part  of  the  Don's  nature.  And  well  did 
he  exclaim,  as  he  addressed  the  soldiery  on  that  most  memora- 
ble day, — "  The  pent  fires  of  Californian  bravery,  who  can 
quench  them  ?  "What  one  of  us,  whether  plebeian  born  or  a  de- 
scendant of  the  Spanish  Cavaliers,  will  flee  before  the  servile 
minions  of  the  ignoble  Alvarado  ?  What  man  "with  a 
heart  quickened  by  Castilian  blood,  will  not  pour  out  that 
blood  in  defence  of  California,  and  the  union  of  the  Mexican 
States  ?  "  To  this  appeal  a  response  arose  and  echoed  amonp; 
the  hills,  in  that  hearty  and  lusty  manner  so  characteristic  of 
Spanish  Californians,  and  other  animals  distinguished  for  long 
ears.  He  next  commended  the  courage  displayed,  and  the 
valorous  exploits  performed  in  the  siege  they  were  prosecut- 
ing. "  They  had  crowned  their  names  with  deeds  of  immor- 
tal renown."  And  then  the  officers'  swords  flamed  from  their 
scabbards,  and  the  privates  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  the 
most  threatening  attitudes  of  the  genuine  warrior,  as  the  Don 
took  breath,  and  with  emphasis  remarked,  that  the  army  of 
Santa  Barbara  was  approaching  ! ! !  It  approached  ! ! !  All 
saw  it ! ! !  Halted ! !  The  Don  reconnoitred ! !  and  horrible  to 
tell — the  opposing  forces  numbered  one  hundred  and  four 
noses ! !  His  own,  himself  included,  one  hundred  and  one  only ! ! ! 
A  difference  of  three  whole  noseS,  against  the  Don ! ! !  And 
25* 


I 


'  1 


294 


SCENES      IN      THB      PACiriC. 


who  in  California  knew  better  than  he,  the  power  and  effect 
of  such  superiority  ?  "Who  understood  more  clearly  than  the 
Don,  the  execution  which  that  number  of  noses  might  do  in 
the  approaching  struggle  for  "  law  and  order  ?  "  But  who, 
among  all  living  and  dead  heroes,  could  better  rally  the 
energies  required  to  meet  that  horrible  crisis,  than  the  Don  1 
None !  His  horse  even  partook  of  the  overpowering  mag- 
nitude of  the  energies  that  bestrode  his  back,  and  bore 
his  rider  along  the  line  with  unwonted  speed  and  fire  as  the 
order  boomed  along,  for  the  soldiers  to  prime  anew  their  pans 
-Hshoulder  their  gleaming  muskets,  nnd  retreat  within  the 
walls  of  the  Mission  Santa  Buenaventura ! ! 

Three  days  after  this  intrepid  retreat  of  the  invading  army, 
the  redoubtable  Captain  Jose  Castro  arrived  at  Santa  Bar- 
bara, with  the  army  of  the  North,  six  men  strong,  well  ap- 
pointed with  muskets,  powder,  ball,  and  Californian  patriot- 
ism. His  entry  was  a  triumph ;  rendered  sweet  to  that  warrior's 
heart  by  the  consciousness  of  being  looked  upon,  while  his 
army  defiled  through  the  streets,  as  the  saviour  of  all  the  mud 
walls,  tiles,  and  babies  of  that  famous  town.  He  repaired  to 
quarters  in  the  barracks,  dined  with  becoming  dignity,  and 
smoked  a  cigar.  After  this  important  business  had  been  dis- 
patched, he  summoned  before  him  the  authorities,  and  made 
an  exhibit  of  the  luxuriant  love  of  country,  which  had  led 
Alvarado — that  superlative  adjative  of  the  genus  homOf  to 
assume  the  government  of  Alta  California,  and  assured  the 
Commandante,  and  Alcaldes,  that  he  was  authorized  and  ready 
to  receive  the  surrender  of  the  p'jce,  and  the  fealty  of  the 
inhabitants  to  the  Revolutionary  Government.  He  added ,  that 
he  hoped  it  might  not  be  necessary  for  him  to  use  force  in  the 
premises.  This  latter  intimation,  backed  as  it  was  by  the 
standing  presence  of  the  army  of  six,  was  deemed  of  great 
service  to  humanity,  for  no  hesitation  was  manifested  by  the 
population,  amounting  to  some  six  hundred  souls,  about  sub- 
mitting to  the  new  order  of  things  so  gallantly  proposed  to 
them  by  the  renowned  Captain. 


TEAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  8. 


295 


The  ilext  act  of  Captain  Castro  which  history  will  delight 
to  record,  was  that  of  arresting  certain  persons  at  Santa  Bar- 
bara supposed  to  be  favorable  to  the  pretensions  of  the  Don ; 
namely,  Pedro  C.  Carrillo,  the  old  Don's  son,  and  a  Don  An- 
gelo,  former  Administrador  of  the  Port  of  Monterey,  under 
the  late  Mexican  authorities.  The  former  he  put  on  board 
the  bark  Kamamula,  and  sent  to  sea  for  safe  keeping ;  the 
latter  was  transmitted  to  Monterey  as  a  trophy  of  the  glorious 
victory  achieved  by  the  Grand  Army  of  six  at  Santa  Barbara. 

Captain  Castro  tarried  only  two  days  at  Santa  Barbara. 
But  during  that  short  space  of  time  he  was  enabled,  by  using 
that  indefatigable  industry  and  intrepidity  for  which  he  was 
so  remarkable,  to  make  the  two  arrests  which  I  have  mcn> 
tioned.  And  although  it  has  been  said  by  persons  presumed 
to  be  envious  of  the  Captain's  right  to  call  himself  the  Napo- 
leon of  California,  that  these  prisoners  made  no  attempt  to 
escape,  but,  on  the  contrary,  surrendered  themselves  without 
resistance,  yet  the  impartial  historian  will  undoubtedly  find, 
on  thorough  investigation,  that  he  who  captured  Graham  and 
others  with  so  much  bravery  and  renown,  could  not,  in  the 
possibility  of  things,  have  done  this  act  so  tamely  as  the  ene- 
mies of  the  Captain  would  maliciously  represent.  Captain 
Castro  was  a  Napoleon,  and  by  what  specious  sophistry  can 
mankind  be  made  to  believe  that  he  did  not  arrest  Senores 
Pedro  and  Angelo,  in  a  manner  worthy  of  that  immortal 
name  1 

On  the  third  day,  the  Grand  Army  of  the  North  being  in- 
creased by  the  people  of  Santa  Barbara  to  one  hundred  men, 
and  supplied  with  three  field-pieces,  moved  against  the  Grand 
Army  of  the  South  at  San  Buenaventura.  They  arrived  in 
the  night ;  and  while  the  darkness  shielded  them  from  view, 
they  planted  the  cannon  on  the  heights  overlooking  the  Mis- 
sion, and  otherwise  prepared  themselves  for  the  horrors  of 
the  coining  day.  When  the  morning  dawned,  the  Captain 
had  the  satisfaction  to  perceive  that  his  position  had  been  so 
well  taken  that  the  garrison  of  the  opposing  forces  was  com- 


\  Mi 
'.1 

-  iti 


899 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


I! 


'I 
I 


i\ 


i 


pletely  at  his  mercy ;  and  like  all  other  great  men,  being 
shocked  at  the  idea  of  shedding  blood  so  profusely  as  he  must 
do,  if  he  opened  upon  the  Mission  the  terrors  of  his  cannon, 
he  sent  in  a  flag  and  demanded  a  surrender.  But,  strange  to 
say,  the  Don,  not  having  before  his  eyes  the  fear  of  Castro's 
ammunition,  refused  obedience  to  this  reasonable  request,  and 
commenced  a  brisk  discharge  of  musketry  from  the  walls. 
This  was  answered  by  those  outside  with  both  muskets  and 
cannon.  The  work  of  death  thus  commenced  went  on  until 
the  shutting  in  of  night  on  the  fourth  day !  How  grateful  were 
the  shadows  of  that  night  to  the  besieged !  The  lighted  taper 
that  burned  at  the  altar  of  the  Chapel,  sent  a  straggling  ray 
over  the  area  within  the  walls,  and  glimmered  faintly  on  the 
arms  of  the  Don's  soldiery  !  But  neither  that  light  from  the 
altar  of  hope,  nor  the  beaming  bayonets  of  the  besieged  vete- 
rans, could  inspire  their  hearts  with  the  firmness  required  to 
prolong  so  terrific  and  destructive  a  conflict.  In  the  silent 
moment  of  midnight,  therefore,  more  than  half  of  the  Don's 
remaining  troops  made  a  desperate  sally  from  the  gate,  and 
not  being  opposed  for  awhile,  believed  that  their  intrepidity 
had  saved  them  !  But  they  were  unfortunately  mistaken ! 
The  Captain's  sentinels  had  noticed  their  operations,  and 
sounded  the  alarm  so  bravely  that  they  surrendered  them- 
selves at  discretion,  without  waiting  for  the  unnecessary  cere- 
mony of  being  captured,  or  in  anywise  endangered. 

After  these  men  had  thus  daringly  given  themselves  up  to 
their  foes,  their  companions,  the  glorious  old  Don  and  all, 
capitulated.  And  now  came  the  calling  of  the  rolls  and  the 
burial  of  the  dead  !  Sad  rites  to  those  who  survive  such  days 
of  carnage  !  Forty-eight  hours  of  cannonading  on  the  one 
side,  and  of  busy  musket-shots  on  the  other  ! !  How  many 
had  ceased  to  breathe,  was  the  anxious  inquiry !  The  ofli- 
cial  returns  read  thus,  "  Of  the  army  of  the  South  one  man 
killed.  Of  the  army  of  the  North  one  man  wounded. — God 
and  Liberty."  It  is  proper  to  observe  in  this  place,  that  it 
was  afterwards  a  question  often  raised  between  the  soldiers 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


297 


of  the  two  armies,  whether  the  Don  or  the  Captain  surrendered. 
But  the  most  authentic  accounts  rather  favor  the  opinion  that 
the  Captain  had  the  better  of  the  battle.  And  I  have  little 
doubt  that  when  the  Hume  of  that  country  shall  write  its 
annals,  and  some  unborn  Ossian  shall  sing  of  the  mighty  tread 
and  thundering  bucklers  of  the  Castros  and  Carrillos  of  that 
streamy  land,  they  will  not  only  commemorate  the  bloody 
ramparts  of  San  Buenaventura,  but  speak  worthily  of  the 
Don,  as  great  even  in  defeat,  and  of  Captain  Jose  as  glo- 
riously triumphant.  This  idea  is  remarkably  strengthened  by 
the  fact  that  as  soon  as  the  termination  of  the  campaign  was 
announced  at  Monterey,  the  puissant  Alv^rado  journeyed  to 
San  Buenaventura,  and  thence  in  company  with  his  Captain 
Castro  to  El  Pueblo  de  los  Angelos,  where  he  took  posses- 
sion of  the  worthy  old  Don's  house,  and  acted  the  Governor 
upon  the  wines  and  brandies  therein  contained,  with  all  the 
taste  and  suavity  so  well  known  to  be  his  peculiar  excellen- 
ces, and  possessed  himself  of  whatever  else  he  listed  of  the 
Don's  personal  estate.  But — how  unjust  not  to  name  it — 
after  having  robbed  his  uncle,  he  gave  in  return  a  promise  to 
pay,  which  I  was  told  still  stands  good  against  him,  a  sum 
equal  to  his  own  estimate  of  the  value  he  had  taken. 

From  El  Pueblo  de  los  Angelos,  Governor  Alvarado 
proceeded  to  San  Diego,  the  southernmost  port  of  Alta  Cali- 
fornia ;  and  received  there  and  elsewhere  the  submission  of 
the  inhabitantL?,  till  the  whole  country  recognized  the  said 
Juan  Baptiste  Alvarado,  El  Goubernador  del  Alta  California. 
Even  the  glorious  old  Don  Carlos  Antonio  Carrillo  is  said  to 
have  paid  court  to  the  young  conqueror,  and  not  altogether 
unwillingly,  after  so  much  blood  shed  in  defence  of  his  dig- 
nity aud  the  high  honors  of  his  office,  to  have  laid  aside  his 
pretensions  with  much  grace  and  apparent  satisfaction ;  thus 
demonstrating  that  noble  and  rare  principle  which  leads  the 
truly  great  man, — after  the  exercise  of  every  energy,  after 
wading  through  seas  of  gore,  after  baring  his  bosom  to  the 
knife  of  fate,  after  having  met,  defied,  endured,  every  hazard, 


298 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


every  hardship,  for  the  attainment  of  his  just  rights, — ^to  prove 
himself  not  only  "  par  secundis,"  but  "  major  adversis,"  by 
seeking  repose,  and  calling  on  the  shades  of  forgetfulness  to 
fall  £iround  the  memory  oi  heroic  exploits,  which  such  a  man 
blushes  to  hear  coupled  with  his  name.  So  little  need  has 
true  worth  of  noise  arid  praise.  But  I  should  do  great  injus- 
tice to  the  worthy  Don,  if  I  neglected  to  state  his  manner  of 
obtaining  the  commission  of  Governor  of  Upper  California, 
in  support  of  which  he  struggled  so  manfully. 

About  two  years  after  the  Revolution  which  raised  Alva- 
rado  to  power,  the  excellent  old  Don  sent  an  account  of  that 
event  to  his  friend  Sa  Excellentissimo,  El  Presidente  Busta- 
mente,  in  which  among  other  matters  it  was  stated  that,  in 
case  Mexico  would  make  an  appointment  of  a  Californian  of 
the  Governorship  of  the  country  (suggesting  at  the  same  time 
that  he  the  worthy  Don  was  at  the  service  of  the  State,) — ^he, 
the  Don,  and  his  amigos  would  reconquer  the  country,  and 
return  it  to  the  allegiance  of  Mexico.  The  Don's  brother,  a 
man  of  great  patriotism — id  est,  Mexican  patriotism,  or  the 
most  devoted  disposition  to  take  care  of  himself, — ^bore  this 
dispatch.  In  due  time  he  returned  with  a  commission — em- 
powering his  brother  Don  to  assume  the  Government  of  Alta 
California.  The  only  irregularity  in  the  instrument  which 
arrested  attention  was  the  absence  of  the  proper  signa- 
tures and  the  Seal  of  State.  But  as  the  Don  was  called 
£1  Goubernador  in  the  body  of  the  instrument,  that  irregu- 
larity was  deemed  by  his  friends  of  trifling  importance.  But 
it  was  this  that  the  wily  Alvarado  seized  upon  as  a  pretext 
for  not  delivering  up  the  helm  of  Government  to  the  most 
excellent  and  stately  old  Don,  and  allowing  himself  and  his 
partisans  to  be  shot  according  to  the  law,  for  having  rebelled 
against  La  Republica  Mexicana. 

From  the  year  1838  to  the  year  1840,  the  time  when  the 
author  entered  California,  Alvarado  continued  to  be  the  Gov- 
ernor of  that  lovely  land.  And  during  that  period  no  events 
occurred  worthy  of  being  detailed. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Geology  of  the  Californias — Boundaries — Lower  California — Motin> 
tains — Surface — Deserts — Valleys —  Streams — Temperature— Pro- 
ductions— Exports — Pearl  Fishery Present  condition  of  Lower 

'  California. 

The  Geology  of  the  Californias. — ^The  feature  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  the  regions  lying  west  of  them,  most 
interesting  to  the  geologist,  is  found  in  the  evidences  of  past 
volcanic  action,  which  are  strown  far  and  wide  about  the  path 
of  the  traveller  wherever  he  goes.  The  main  ranges,  which 
rise  from  twelve  to  twenty-seven  thousand  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea,  are  chiefly  composed  of  primitive  rock,  covered  with 
eternal  snows.  Having  passed  these,  the  wayfarer  westward 
enters  a  region,  parts  of  which  are  occupied  by  plains  covered 
with  volcanic  sands  and  debris— or  piled  with  mountains  of 
fused  rock  and  decomposing  lava  clothed  with  forests  of 
terebinthine  trees,  broken  often  by  bold  barren  tracts  of  cliffs, 
and  overhung  here  and  there  by  lofty  pinnacles  of  extinct  vol- 
canoes, towering  in  freezing  sublimity,  thousands  of  feet  above 
the  line  of  perpetual  frosts — great  sentinels  in  the  heavens — 
clad  in  the  shining  raiments  of  everlasting  snow.  This  is  a 
general  description  of  the  whole  territory  lying  west  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  extending  from  Cape  San  Lucas  to  the 
Arctic  sea. 

The  peninsula  of  Lower  California,  extending  from  Cape 
San  Lucas  to  the  Bay  of  Todos  Santos,  in  Lat.  32**  N.,  on  the 
Pacific,  and  to  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado,  on  the  Gulf  side, 
is  a  pile  of  volcanic  debris  and  scoriae.  Much  of  the  surface 
is  still  lieated  by  subterranean  fires.  No  craters  are  in  action. 
But  hot  ^rings  of  water  and  bitumen,  and  frequent  earth* 


m 


m 


Hi 


:.fi<ii^i 


300 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


quakes,  and  the  scorched  face  of  the  whole  region,  demonstrate 
it  to  be  a  mere  mass  upheaved  from  the  sea,  and  burned  to 
cinders.  The  range  of  mountains  that  comes  up  through  Low 
er  California,  runs  on  northwardly  into  Upper  California,  at 
an  average  distance  of  sixty  or  seventy  miles  from  the  sea,  till 
it  falls  away  into  low  hills  south  of  the  bay  of  San  Francisco. 
This,  also,  is  a  volcanic  range ;  though  not  so  strongly  marked 
to  that  effect  in  the  Upper  as  in  the  Lower  Province. 

Some  portions  of  this  range  are  lofty.  That  part  lying 
east  and  south-east  of  El  Pueblo  de  los  Angelos,  is  tipped 
with  perpetual  snows.  But  the  greater  part  of  it  presents  a 
base  covered  up  to  more  than  half  of  the  whole  elevation 
with  pine  and  cedar  forests ;  the  remaining  height  being  com- 
posed of  bare,  dark,  glistening  rocks,  lying  in  confused  masses, 
or  turreted  in  the  manner  observed  on  the  Black  Hills,  in  the 
Great  Prairie  Wilderness : — spires,  towers  and  battlements 
lifted  up  to  heaven,  among  which  the  white  feathery  clouds 
of  beautiful  days  rest  shining  in  the  mellow  sun. 

The  Snowy  Mountain  range  is  perhaps  the  boldest  and 
most  peculiar  of  the  Californian  highlands.  Its  western  ter- 
minus is  Cape  Mendocino,  a  bold  snow-capped  headland, 
bending  over  the  Pacific  in  40°  N.  Latitude.  Its  western  ter- 
minus is  in  the  Wind  River  Mountains,  Latitude  42°  N.,  about 
seven  hundred  miles  from  the  sea.  Its  peculiarity  consists  in 
what  may  be  termed  its  confused  geological  character.  Near 
the  sea  its  rocks  are  primitive,  its  strata  regular.  A  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  sea  where  the  President's  range  crosses 
it,  everything  is  fused — ^burned ;  and  at  the  distance  of  seventy 
miles  northeastwardly  from  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  a 
spur  comes  off  with  a  lofty  peak,  which  pours  out  immense 
quantities  of  lava,  and  shoots  up  a  flame  so  broad  and  bright 
as  to  be  seen  at  sea,  and  to  produce  distinct  shadows  at  eighty 
miles'  distance.  Here  is  an  extensive  tract  of  this  range  which 
has  been  burned,  and  whose  strata  have  been  torn  from  their 
natural  positions ;  displaying  an  amalgamated  mass  of  primi- 
tive rocks,  ex  locoj  mingled  with  various  descriptions  of 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


301 


Volcanic  remains.  From  this  point  eastward,  it  is  a  broken 
irregular  chain  of  peaks  and  rifted  collateral  ranges,  and 
spurs  running  off  northwardly  and  southwardly,  some  of 
which  are  primitive  and  others  volcanic. 

Another  range  of  mountains  which  deserves  notice  in  this 
place,  is  that  which  bounds  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquim  on 
the  east.  This  is  a  wide  and  towering  range.  It  is  in  fact  a 
continuation  of  the  President's  range,  and  partakes  very 
strongly  of  its  volcanic  character.  That  part  of  it  which  lies 
eastwardly  from  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  is  very  broad  and 
lofty.  One  of  its  peaks.  Mount  Jackson,  as  it  is  called,  is  the 
highest  in  all  the  President's  range.  A  mighty  shaft  of  rocks 
is  that !  Mountains  of  great  size  are  piled  around  it,  but 
they  appear  like  molehills  beside  that  veteran  mount.  Some 
of  these  lesser  ones  are  so  high  as  to  be  covered  with  snow 
most  of  the  year.  But  this  vast  peak  towers  over  them  all 
several  thousand  feet,  a  glittering  cone  of  ice.  These  moun- 
tains decrease  in  height  as  they  advance  towards  the  mouth 
of  the  Colorado,  where  they  terminate  in  low  crags  and  sandy 
hills. 

All  over  the  Califprnias,  the  traveller  finds  evidences  of 
volcanic  action.  Far  in  the  interior,  among  the  deserts  j  in 
the  streams ;  in  the  heights ;  in  the  plains ;  everywhere  are 
manifestations  of  the  fact,  that  the  current  of  subterranean 
fire  which  crossed  the  Pacific,  throwing  up  that  line  of  isl- 
ands lying  on  the  south  of  the  sea  of  Kamschatka,  and  passed 
down  the  continent  upheaving  the  Oregon  Territory,  did  also 
bring  up  from  the  bed  of  the  ocean  the  Californias ;  and 
among  geological  periods,  I  venture  the  opinion  that  this 
great  event  occurred  at  quite  a  recent  date. 

Geography. — The  Californias  are  bounded  on  the  North  by 
the  42d  parallel  of  Latitude ;  on  the  East,  by  a  line  running 
due  north  from  the  head  waters  of  the  Arkansas  river,  and  by 
the  Anahuac  and  Taos  mountains ;  on  the  South,  by  the  river 
Jila  and  the  Gulf  of  California ;  and  on  the  West,  by  the 
Pacific  Ocean. 
26 


302 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


1 


A  general  idea  of  the  surface  will  be  given  the  reader  if  I 
say  that  the  peninsula,  or  Lower  California,  which  extends 
from  Cape  San  Lucas  in  N.  Lat.  22°  48',  to  the  Bay  of  Todos 
Santos  in  Lat.  32^^  N.,  is  a  pile  of  barren  volcanic  mountains, 
with  very  few  streams,  and  still  fewer  spots  of  ground  capable 
of  sustaining  vegetation ;  and  if  I  state  that  the  country  lying 
north  of  this  peninsula,  called  Upper  California,  is  perhaps  the 
most  beautiful  and  productive  in  the  world ;  and  that  the  ter- 
ritory lying  north  and  south  of  the  Colorado  of  the  West, 
and  within  the  boundaries  just  given  to  the  Californias,  is  a 
howling  desolation.  But  as  so  general  a  description  of  a 
country,  that  has  never  been  described,  will  scarcely  meet  the 
expectations  of  my  readers,  I  shall  proceed  to  particulars  as 
far  as  my  space  will  allow. 

Lower  California. — ^The  Gulf  of  California  lies  on  the 
east  of  the  Southern  Province.  The  Rio  Colorado  enters  it 
at  its  northern  part.  At  the  junction  of  these  waters  we  will 
commence  our  view  of  Lower  California. 

From  the  highlands  near  the  mouth  of  this  river,  a  wild 
and  somewhat  interesting  scene  opens.  In  the  east  appears 
a  line  of  mountains  of  a  dark  hue,  stretching  down  the  coast 
of  the  Gulf  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  These  heights  are 
generally  destitute  of  trees ;  but  timbier  grows  in  some  of  the 
ravines.  The  general  aspect,  however,  is  far  from  pleasing. 
There  is  such  a  vastness  of  monotonous  desolation ;  so  dry, 
so  blistered  with  volcanic  fires ;  so  forbidding  to  the  wants 
of  thirsting  and  hungering  men,  that  one  gladly  turns  his  eye 
upon  the  water,  the  Mar  de  Cortez,  the  Gulf  of  California. 
The  Colorado,  two  and  a  half  miles  in  width,  rushes  into  this 
Gulf  with  great  force,  lashing  as  it  goes  the  small  islands 
lying  at  its  mouth,  and  for  many  leagues  around  the  waters  of 
the  Gulf  are  discolored  by  its  turbulent  flood.  On  the  west 
sweep  away  the  mountains  of  Lower  California.  These  also 
are  a  thirsty  mass  of  burned  rocks,  so  dry  that  vegetation  finds 
no  restmg-place  among  them.  But  they  lift  themselves  nobly 
to  the  clouds,  and  look  so  venerable  in  their  baldness,  that 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


303 


one  feels  an  ill-defined  but  absorbing  interest  in  viewing  them. 
Man  never  treads  their  treeless  heights — he  finds  among  them 
neither  food  nor  drink ;  nor  will  they  ever  resound  with  the 
voices  and  tumults  of  human  life.  Still,  is  there  not  in  a 
wilderness  of  barren  mountains  a  vast  idea  of  chill'mg  un- 
changeableness  which  inspires  a  feeling  of  awe  and  reve- 
rence ?  The  poor  Indians  thought  so.  They  peopled  them 
with  gods,  and  trembled  when  the  moon  lighted  them  dimly 
at  night,  and  when  the  elements  groaned  among  them.  They 
stand  a  vast  assemblage  of  red  and  brown  dearth,  extending 
in  a  bold  jagged  line  broader  and  higher,  onward  and  up- 
ward, till  they  fade  away  among  the  bright  clouds  and  dew- 
less  skies  of  Lower  California :  that  field  of  trial  for  men  who 
would  plant  on  the  heart  of  the  Indian  the  seeds  of  a  holy 
life ;  the  scenes  of  the  labors,  hopes  and  suflferings,  of  Padres 
Salva  Tierra  and  Ugarte  ;  the  burning-place  of  Padres  Cor- 
rando's  and  TamaraPs  martyrdom !  We  will  describe  that 
country  as  it  now  exists. 

That  province  of  Lower  California,  extends  from  Cape  San 
Lucas  to  the  Bay  of  Todos  Santos,  and  varies  from  thirty  to 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  width,  a  superficial  extent  al- 
most equal  to  that  of  Great  Britain ;  and  yet  on  account  of 
its  barrenness,  never  will,  from  the  products  of  the  soil,  main- 
tain five  hundred  thousand  people  in  a  state  of  comfort,  ordi- 
narily found  in  the  civilized  condition.  This  statement  may 
seem  surprising  to  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  geolo- 
gical fact  that,  though  it  is  a  volcanic  country,  the  lava  and 
other  volcanic  matter  is  decomposing  at  the  usual  rate.  But 
surprise  will  cease  when  such  persons  are  informed  that  every 
few  years  tornadoes  sweep  over  the  country  with  such  vio- 
lence, and  bearing  with  them  such  floods  of  rain,  that  what- 
ever of  soil  has  been  in  any  manner  previously  formed,  is 
swept  into  the  sea.  So  that  even  those  little  nooks  among 
the  mountains,  where  the  inhabitants  from  time  to  time  make 
their  fields,  and  task  the  vexed  earth  for  a  scanty  subsistence, 
are  liable  to  be  laid  bare  by  the  torrents.    In  case  the  soil 


i 


I  . 

:^'.^ 


w 


i 


Ml 


'm 


m 


304 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


I 


!*    ft 


chance  to  be  lodged  in  some  other  dell,  befbre  it  reach  the 
Ocean  or  the  Gulf,  and  the  people  follow  ii  to  its  new  loca- 
tion, they  find  perhaps  no  water  there  and  cannot  cultivate  it 
Consequently  they  are  often  driven  by  dreadful  want  to  some 
other  point  in  quest  of  sustenance,  where  they  may  not  find  it, 
and  perish  among  the  parched  highlands.     For  the  space  of 
twenty  or  thirty  leagues  from  the  Cape  San  Lucas  the  air  is 
rendered  mild  and  kindly  by  the  sea  breezes,  and  the  ground 
in  many  parts  being  wet  by  little  currents  of  water  running 
from  the  highlands,  is  very  fruitful.     From  this  section  to 
Loretto,  Latitude  26^  16'  N.,  the  heat  is  excessive,  the  soil  dry 
and  barren,  and  the  surface  of  the  country  extremely  craggy 
and  forbidding.     From  Loretto  northward  to  Todos  Santos, 
the  air  is  more  temperate,  the  water  in  the  mountains  some- 
times freezes,  and  the  soil  is  not  so  rugged  and  full  of  rocks, 
but  is  barren  and  desolate  as  that  around  Loretto.    The  mean 
range  of  temperature  in  the  whole  country  in  the  summer 
season  is  from  60^  to  74°  Fahrenheit.     The  rains  fall  in 
the  winter  months ;  are  very  severe,  and  of  short  duration. 
During  the  remainder  of  the  year  the  air  is  dry  and  clear ; 
and  the  sky  more  beautiful  than  the  imagination  can  conceive. 

The  range  of  mountains  occupying  the  whole  interior  6f 
this  country,  vary  in  height  from  one  to  five  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  They  are  almost  bare  of  all  ver- 
dure, mere  brown  piles  of  barrenness,  sprinkled  here  and  there 
with  a  cluster  of  briars,  small  shrubs,  or  dwarf  trees.  Among 
the  ridges  are  a  few  spots  to  which  the  sweeping  rains  have 
spared  a  little  soil.  These,  if  watered  by  springs  or  streams, 
are  beautiful  and  productive.  There  are  also  a  few  places 
near  the  coast  which  are  well  adapted  to  tillage  and  pastur- 
age- 

But  the  principal  difficulty  with  this  region,  is  one  common 
to  all  countries  of  volcanic  origin, — a  scarcity  of  water.  The 
porousness  of  the  rocks  allows  it  to  pass  under  ground  to  the 
sea.  Consequently  one  finds  few  streams  and  springs  in 
Lower  California.    From  the  Cape  San  Lucas  to  the  mouth  of 


■5' Si 

ill 


TRAVEJ..S      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


305 


the  Colorado,  six  hundred  miles,  there  are  only  two  streams 
emptying  into  the  Gulf.  One  of  these  is  called  San  Josef  del 
Cabo.  It  passes  through  the  plantations  of  the  Mission  bear- 
ing the  same  name,  and  discharges  itself  into  the  bay  of  San 
Barnabas.  The  other  is  the  Mulege,  which  waters  the  Mission 
of  Santa  Rosalia,  and  enters  the  Gulf  in  Latitude  27°  N.  These 
are  not  navigable.  The  streams  on  the  ocean  coast,  also,  are 
few  and  small.  Some  of  them  are  large  enough  to  propel 
light  machinery,  or  irrigate  considerable  tracts  of  land,  but 
none  of  them  are  navigable.  In  the  interior  are  several  large 
springs,  which  send  out  abundant  currents  along  the  rocky 
beds  of  their  upper  courses ;  but  when  they  reach  the  loose 
sands  and  porous  rocks  of  the  lower  country,  they  sink  and 
enter  the  sea  through  subterranean  channels.  A  great  misfor- 
tune it  is  too,  that  the  lands  which  border  those  portions  of 
these  streams  which  run  above  the  ground,  consist  of  barren 
rocks.  Where  springs,  however,  and  arable  land  occur 
together,  immense  fertility  is  the  consequence.  There  is 
some  variety  of  climate  on  the  coasts,  which  it  may  be  well  to 
mention.  On  the  Pacific  shore  the  temperature  is  rendered 
delightfully  balmy  by  the  sea  breezes,  and  the  humidity  which 
they  bring  along  with  them.  Fahrenheit's  thermometer  ranges 
on  this  coast,  during  the  summer,  between  fifty-eight  and  sev- 
enty-one degrees.  In  the  winter  months,  while  the  rains  are 
falling,  it  sinks  as  low  as  fifty  degrees  above  zero.  On  the 
Gulf  coast  there  is  a  still  greater  variation.  While  at  the 
Cape,  the  mercury  stands  between  sixty  and  seventy  degrees ; 
near  the  head  of  the  Gulf  it  is  down  to  the  freezing  point. 

These  isolated  facts,  in  regard  to  the  great  territory  under 
consideration,  will  give  the  reader  as  perfect  an  idea  of  the 
surface  and  agricultural  capacities  of  Lower  California  as  will 
be  here  needed.  In  fact,  this  country  has  already  been  pretty 
clearly  and  fully  described  in  my  account  of  the  Missionary 
operations  of  Padres  Salva  Tiebra  and  Ugarte.  • 

The  few  fertile  spots  in  Lower  California  were  occupied  at 
an  early  day,  and  planted  with  maize,  wheat,  beans,  peas, 
26» 


ffi 


■^1 


m 


i 


306 


■  CENK9     IN      THE      PACIVIC. 


Sfi 


! 


and  all  manner  of  esculent  roots.  The  European  vine  was 
also  introduced  extensively,  and  yielded  grapes  of  the  finest 
quality.  From  these  grapes,  wines  were  made  which  were 
equal  in  excellence  to  those  of  the  Canary  Islands.  The 
orange,  lemon,  lime,  citron,  prune,  plantain,  pine-apple,  and 
other  tropical  fruits,  were  also  planted,  and  yielded  abundant 
crops.  These  articles  are  still  cultivated  by  the  present  inhabit- 
ants. They  also  rear,  as  of  old,  horses,  black  cattle,  mules, 
goats,  and  a  few  hogs.  But  the  gross  amount  of  all  these 
products,  in  a  country  where  there  is  so  little  fruitful  land,  is 
yery  small ;  and  in  fact  the  people,  though  not  numerous,  are 
unable,  on  those  barren  shores,  to  supply  themselves  at  all 
times  with  the  necessaries  of  life. 

But,  there  is,  in  the  construction  of  the  Universe,  a  great 
compensatory  law,  which,  when  one  blessing  is  withheld, 
grants  another  in  its  stead.  So  here,  while  the  land  is  deso- 
late, the  sea  is  stored  with  an  incredible  abundance  and  variety 
of  fish.  Only  a  few  of  them  can  be  named ;  the  halibut, 
salmon,  turbot,  skate,  pilchard,  large  oyster,  thomback, 
mackerel,  barbel,  bonifos,  soles,  lobsters,  crabs,  sardines,  cod, 
tunnies,  anchovies,  and  pearl  oysters.  These  fish  are  all  of 
the  finest  quality,  and  exceedingly  numerous.  In  a  word,  the 
Waters  of  Lower  California  are  so  rich,  that,  although  the  land 
be  dreary  and  for  the  most  part  a  leafless  waste,  the  country 
would  be  a  valuable  acquisition  to  any  commercial  nation. 
The  value  of  the  pearl  oyster  alone  would  authorize  us  to 
make  this  remark.  There  are  immense  beds  of  these  in  the 
Gulf.  In  the  language  of  the  Naturalists  this  is  a  testaceous 
fish  of  the  genus  myay  species  margcritifera  ;  which  being 
translated  into  the  language  of  common  sense  means,  that  the 
pearl  oyster  is  a  kind  of  water  animal,  living  between  a  pair 
of  shells  like  any  other  gentleman  oyster.  And  this  gentle- 
man they  tell  us  is  sometimes  afflicted  with  disease  at  one  nd 
of  ^himself ;  and  having  none  of  Sands'  Sarsaparilla  where- 
withal to  effect  a  cure,  a  little  stony  concretion  of  the  carbon- 
ate of  lime  is  collected,  or  to  use  words  which  are  accustomed 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALirORNIAS. 


307 


to  be  understood  by  sensible  people  in  contradistinction  to  the 
learned,  a  small  light-colored,  bright  and  round  bunch  is 
formed,  about  as  large  as  a  good  healthy  dew-drop  of  May, 
which  IS  called  a  pearl.  The  use  of  this  article  usually  is  to 
ornament  the  necks  of  those  whose  brains  are  of  deficient 
growth,  and  the  cars  and  heads  of  those  who  are  born  to 
more  titles  than  thoughts.  The  thing  has  no  real  value  in 
itself;  but  as  vanity  has  rendered  it  a  valuable  means  of 
throwing  into  shadow  these  deficiencies  of  nature,  commerce 
has  given  it  a  place  among  her  most  valuable  commodities. 
These  pearls  of  Lower  California  are  considered  of  excellent 
water  ;  but  their  rather  irregular  figure  somewhat  reduces 
their  value.  The  manner  of  obtaining  these  pearls  is  not 
without  interest.  The  vessels  employed  in  the  fisheries  are 
from  fifteen  to  thirty  tons  burthen.  They  are  usually  fitted  out 
by  private  individuals.  The  Armador  or  owner  commands 
them.  Crews  are  shipped  to  work  them,  and  from  forty  to 
fifty  Indians,  called  Busos,  to  dive  for  the  oyster.  A  stock  of 
provisions  and  spirits,  a  small  sum  of  money  to  advance  the 
people  during  the  cruise,  a  limited  supply  of  calaboose  furni- 
ture, a  sufficient  number  of  hammocks  to  sleep  in,  and  a 
quantity  of  ballast,  constitute  nearly  all  the  cargo  outward 
bound.  Thus  arranged  they  sail  into  the  Gulf;  and  having 
arrived  at  the  oyster  banks,  cast  anchor  and  commence  busi- 
ness. The  divers  are  first  called  to  duty.  They  plunge  to 
the  bottom  in  four  or  five  fathom  water,  dig  up  with  sharpen- 
ed sticks  as  many  oysters  as  they  are  able,  rise  to  the  surface 
and  deposit  them  in  sacks  hung  to  receive  them  at  the  ves- 
sel's side.  And  thus  they  continue  to  do  until  the  sacks  are 
filled,  or  the  hours  allotted  to  this  part  of  the  labor  are  ended. 
When  the  diving  of  the  day  is  done,  all  come  on  board 
and  place  themselves  in  a  circle  around  the  Armador,  who 
divides  what  they  have  obtained,  in  the  following  manner : 
two  oysters  for  himself,  the  same  number  for  the  Busos,  or 
cUvers,  and  one  for  the  government. 
This  division  having  been  concluded,  they  next  proceed, 


"■|.H 


-#l 


■31 


308 


SCENES      IN       TIIK      PACIFIC. 


ii 


■  ' 


without  moving  from  their  places,  to  open  the  oysters  which 
have  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  Armador.  During  this  operation, 
that  dignitary  has  to  watch  the  Busos  with  the  greatest  scru- 
tiny, to  prevent  them  from  swallowing  the  pearls  with  the 
oysters  ;  a  trick  which  they  perform  with  so  much  dexterity, 
as  almost  to  defy  detection,  and  by  means  of  which  they  often 
manage  to  secrete  the  most  valuable  pearls.  The  govern- 
ment ^  Ttion  is  next  opened  with  the  same  precautions,  ^nd 
taken  into  possession  by  the  Armador.  And  last  of  all  the 
Busos  open  theirs,  and  sell  them  to  the  Armador  in  liquida- 
tion of  debts  incurred  for  their  outfits,  or  of  moneys  advanced 
during  the  voyage.  They  usually  reserve  a  few  to  sell  to 
dealers  on  shore,  who  always  accompany  these  expeditions 
with  spirituous  liquors,  chocolate,  sugar,  cigars,  and  other 
articles  of  which  these  Indian  divers  are  especially  fond. 
Since  the  Mexicans  obtained  their  independence,  another 
mode  of  division  has  been  adopted.  Every  time  the  Busos 
come  up,  the  largest  oyster  which  he  has  obtained  is  taken  by 
the  Armador  and  laid  aside  for  the  use  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 
The  rest  are  thrown  in  a  pile ;  and  when  the  day's  diving  is 
ended,  eight  oysters  are  laid  out  for  the  At  madors,  eight  for 
the  Busos,  and  two  for  the  government. 

In  the  year  1831,  one  vessel  with  seventy  Busos,  another 
with  fifty,  and  two  with  thirty  each,  and  two  boats  with  ten 
each,  from  the  coast  of  Senora,  engaged  in  this  fishery.  The 
one  brought  in  forty  ounces  of  pearls  valued  at  $6,500;  ano< 
thcr  twenty-one  ounces,  valued  at  $3,000;  another  twelve 
ounces,  valued  at  $2,000,  and  the  two  boats  a  proportionate 
quantity.  There  were  in  the  same  season  ten  or  twelve  other 
vessels,  from  other  parts,  employed  in  the  trade ;  which,  if 
equally  successful,  swelled  the  value  of  pearls  taken  in  that 
year  to  the  sum  of  more  than  forty  thousand  dollars. 

This  pearl-fishery,  indeed,  is  the  principal  source  of  wealth 
in  Lower  California.  From  the  soil  little  can  ever  be  derived ; 
unless  the  deserts  and  mountains,  like  other  volcanic  districts 
on  the  west  coast  of  the  continent,  should  prove  to  be  stored 


A 

-Mi 


TRAVELf-       IN      THE      CALIF0RNIA8. 


309 


with  the  precious  metals.  There  is  a  high  probability  that  this 
may  be  found  the  case  ;  for  a  mine  called  San  Antonio,  near 
I«a  Paz,  which  has  been  wrought  somewhat,  is  sdUd  to  be  rich. 
In  addition  to  the  products  of  this  mine  and  the  pearls,  there 
is  a  limited  export  of  dates,  wines,  grapes,  soap,  figs,  raazcal, 
spirits,  salt  from  a  lake  on  the  island  Del  Carmine,  and  a 
few  goat  and  beeves'  hides. 

Since  the  landing  of  the  excellent  old  Padre  Salva  Tierra, 
with  his  six  soldiers  and  three  Indians,  at  Loretto  in  the 
year  1697,  a  great  change  has  taken  place  in  the  inhabitants 
of  this  territory.  It  was  then  peopled  by  about  twenty  thou- 
sand Indians,  who  passed  whole  days  stretched  upon  their 
bellies  on  the  sand.  And  when  pressed  with  hunger  they 
flew  to  the  chase  or  the  sea^  like  wild  beasts,  merely  to  satisfy 
the  cravings  of  appetite,  and  then  rolled  themselves  upon  the 
sand  again  till  aroused  to  action  by  a  similar  cause. 

These  degraded  beings  the  Jesuits  brought  into  the  Catholic 
church,  taught  the  arts  of  civilized  life,  and  when  nature  fail- 
ed, buried  them.  The  intercourse  of  these  savages  with  the 
soldiers,  and  with  the  few  colonists  and  their  negro  slaves, 
who  from  time  to  time  settled  there,  produced  a  mixed  race, 
which,  by  the  greater  care  taken  of  their  persons,  and  by  the 
relief  from  labor  derived  from  the  industry  of  the  neophytes 
at  the  Missions,  have  increased  in  numbers,  while  their  brutal 
and  filthy  Indian  relatives,  with  better  constitutions,  have  de- 
creased 'f  so  that  the  present  population  of  Lower  California  is 
almost  entirely  composed  of  mongrel  breeds  of  Indians, 
whites,  and  negroes.  In  1836  they  amounted  to  about  four 
thousand.  But  since  then  the  sraall-pox  and  another  disease, 
which  had  swept  away  the  Indians,  has  made  some  havoc  also 
among  this  mixed  race.  Loretto,  the  seat  of  government, 
formerly  contained  two  thousand  people,  whose  number  is 
now  reduced  to  about  two  hundred  and  fifty. 
,  ..La  Paz,  situated  on  the  bay  of  La  Paz,  farther  south, 
together  with  the  mining  village  of  San  Antonio,  contains 
about  two  thousand  descendants  of  American  and  European 


,:1 


•'-In 

ll 


■}■■ 


■^.^^ 


K 


m 


310 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


seamen,  Spaniards,  Creoles  and  Indians.  The  remainder  of 
the  population  is  scattered  over  the  country  ',  and  all  are  liv- 
ing a  lewd  and  half  civilized  life. 

These  mission  establishments  are  now  a  sad  sight  to  behold. 
In  the  days  of  Padres  Salva  Tierra  and  Ugarte,  we  have 
regarded  them  as  the  comfortable  abodes  of  savages,  whom 
those  excellent  men  had  raised  from  the  filth,  idleness  and 
misery  of  the  lowest  barbarism,  to  the  cleanliness,  industry  and 
happiness  of  a  partially  civilized  mode  of  life.  They  were 
built  upon  fertile  spots,  separated  from  each  other  by  extensive 
tracts  of  uninhabited  wastes ;  little  green  homes,  where  the 
plough,  the  axe,  the  family  hearth,  and  the  altar  of  God,  con- 
tributed to  the  comfort  and  dignity  of  human  life,  and  so  far 
as  the  physical  obstacles  in  the  country  and  the  stupid  nature 
of  the  Indians  allowed,  elevated  the  leading  purposes  of  their 
temporal  existence,  and  implar^ted  in  their  minds  a  new  idea 
of  vast  power  j  the  idea  of  their  Maker ;  the  framer  of  Nature 
and  of  themselves ;  which  raised  from  the  grave  man's  expec- 
tation of  future  being  ;  and  threw  over  that  new  life  of  beloved 
hope,  the  bow  of  His  eternal  promises.  And  for  ever,  yes, 
alway,  while  the  good  revert  to  the  past,  for  examples  of 
great  devotion  to  the  deeds  of  a  holy  benevolence,  will  they 
point  to  the  thirsty  deserts  ofLower  California,  and  the  crum- 
bling walls  of  the  old  missions,  and  speak  the  names  of  Salva 
Tierra  and  Ugarte. 

The  government  of  Lower  California,  while  administered 
by  these  excellent  men,  was  patriarcnal  in  its  general  features, 
and  aimed  at  the  happiness  of  the  govei  ned.  At  the  expul- 
sion of  the  Jesuits  from  Spanish  America,  the  Franciscans  suc- 
ceeded to  their  places;  but  being  unacquainted  with  the 
character  of  the  people,  their  gcca  intentions  towards  them 
were  in  a  great  degree  thwarted  by  their  incapacity  to  meet 
the  duties  of  their  station.  These  were  succeeded  by  the 
Dominicans ;  excellent  men  in  their  way ;  but  failing  to 
equal  the  great  founders  of  a  system  of  things  which  '  ' 
were  called   to  carry  out,  in  that  broad  and   untiring 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


311 


e 


levolence  which  distinguished  those  remarkable  men,  they 
have  hung  to  the  present  day,  like  drones  upon  the  honey- 
cells  of  their  predecessore'  labors,  till  the  walls  ai'ound  those 
mission  altars  have  tumbled  about  their  heads,  and  the  people 
of  their  charge  have  become  nearly  extinct.    There  is  indeed 
much  excuse  for  this  conduct  of  the  Dominicans,  in  the  fact 
that  afler  the  Mexican  Republic  had  supplanted  the  Spanish 
power  in  that  country,  a  pack  of  political  mendicants  were 
sent  thither  from  Mexico,  who  were  authorized  by  some  of 
the  predatory  statutes  of  that  government,  to  control  the  acts 
of  the  Padres,  remove  the  neophytes  from  the  jurisdiction  of 
their  spiritual  advisers,  and  in  their  zeal  for  the  public  weal,  to 
rob  the  missions  of  their  cattle,  mules,  and  other  property,  for 
their  own  individual  benefit.    But  this  is  hardly  an  excuse  for 
their  tame  submission  to  such  encroachments  upun  the  rights 
of  the  poor  Indian.    His  own  hand  had  opened  the  fields  of 
his  own  country ;  his  eye  had  been  raised  from  the  altar  of 
his  own  native  hills  to  that  God  who  succors  the  veak'and 
defenceless,  and  to  that  God  and  his  truth  he  had  been  devot- 
ed by  martyrs ;  and  these  priests  should  have  been  immolated 
rather  than  have  lived  to  ace  their  fair  fabrics,  which  a  holy 
faith  had  raised  among  the  children  of  the  desert,  and  the 
moral  structures  of  heavenly  love  reared  by  the  old  Padres, 
on  that  bloody  wast'.;  of  human  nature,  destroyed  by  the  un- 
hallowed selfishness  of  such  depraved, men  as  were  those 
officers  of  the  Mexican  Republic.     But  so  it  was.     The  Mis- 
sions fell ; — and  in  their  place  naught  is  left  but  a  howling 
ruin.     A    small   part,   indeed,  of  the  original  number  still 
exist ;  but  the  buildings  even  of  these  are  crumbling,  and  the 
fields  are  crowded  with  the  columnar  cactus,  standing  where 
the  Indian's  bread  stuffs  were  wont  to  grow — like  sentinel 
spirits  lingering  around  the  graves  of  the  loved  and  lost.     A 
sad  si^at  indeed  to  behold  are  the  old  missions  of  Lower 
California !    The  wild  goat  bleats  from  their  falling  belfiries  j 
and  the  swallow  builds  his  nest  among  their  aisles. 


m 


t-iil 


in 


m 
II" 


I' ' 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Rio  Colorado  and  its  Valley— Ruins— Rio  Severe'  and  Valley— An 
old  Trapper  Explorer — Rio  San  Juan  and  Valley — Rio  Jila  and 
Valley — A  Legend — Timpanigos  Lake  and  Valley — Timpanigos 
Lake— Captain  Young's  Expedition— Death— Mary's  River  and 
Vale. 

This  river  has  two  principal  sources ;  the  one  among  the 
Wind  River  spur  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  in  Latitude  43*^  N., 
-which  as  it  moves  southwardly  becomes  a  considerable  strear; 
called  Sheetskadee  or  Green  River ;  the  other  among  the 
eastern  range  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  in  Latitude  40^  N., 
which,  running  westwardly,  forms  a  stream  still  larger  than 
the  Sheetskadee,  which  has  been  called  Rio  Grande,  or  the 
Colorado  of  the  West;  a  stream  of  dreadful  remembrances,  of 
horrid  events,  over  which  the  narrator  of  Indian  legends,  as 
well  as  the  chronicler  of  the  early  explorers,  shudders  to  take 
a  retrospect. 

Upper  California. — Biver  Colorado. — The  water  of  this 
river  is  clear  among  the  Rocky  Mountains,  but  as  it  approach' 
cs  the  Gulf,  it  becomes  much  discc^  red  by  red  sand  and  clay. 
Hence  its  name — Colorado,  a  Spanish  word  meaning  red. 
My  friend.  Doctor  Lyman,  of  Buffalo,  who  travelled  from 
Santa  Fe,  in  New  Mexico,  by  the  way  of  the  Colorado  of  the 
West,  to  Upper  California,  in  the  year  1841,  has  kindly  fo.  • 
nished  me  with  some  of  his  observations,  as  well  on  that  stream 
as  the  adjacent  territories  and  the  Indians  inhabiting  them, 
which  I  feel  great  pleasure  in  giving  to  the  reader.  The  Doc- 
tor's route  lay  northwesterly,  up  the  head  waters  of  the  Rio  Bra- 
vo del  Norte — over  the  dividing  ridge  between  those  waters  and 
the  upper  b-mches  of  the  San  Juan,  and  northwardly  across 
these  to  the  Rio  Colorado  of  the  West — down  the  northern 
bank  of  this  river  to  the  Californian  Moi  mtains — and  through 
these  to  El  Pueblo  de  los  Angelos,  near  the  coast  of  the  Pa- 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


313 


'"i 


cific.  An  eventful  journey — through  an  unexplored  country 
of  untamed  savages,  which  the  Doctor's  scientific  attainments 
and  interesting  style  amply  qualify  him  to  detail  to  his  coun- 
trymen in  a  manner  that  would  for  ever  connect  his  name  with 
the  border  literature  of  America.  But  to  this  task,  I  fear  he 
can  never  be  persuaded. 

My  friend  says  that  the  elevation  of  the  Sheetskadee  Valley 
above  Santa  Fc,  is  3000  feet ;  and  that  of  the  plain  around 
the  junctioh  of  this  stream  and  Grand  River,  is  about  2500 
feet.  It  is  known  from  other  sources  that  the  valleys  of 
Grand  and  Sheetskadee  are  elevated  8000  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  ocean.  So  that  we  may  take  our  point  of  depf .  ture 
from  the  place  where  the  Doctor  struck  the  Colorado,  and 
gain  a  pretty  clear  idea  of  the  inclination  of  that  eastern  por- 
tion of  the  Californias.  As  for  example,  the  linear  distance 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Sheetskadee  to  the  outlet  of  the  Colora- 
do.into  the  Gulf  of  California,  is  about  700  miles.  The  Colo- 
rado then  falls  8000  feet  while  running  that  distance ;  and 
the  bordering  country  dips  in  the  same  ratio.  The  Great  Salt 
L^ke,  Timpanigos,  also  Ues  at  an  elevation  of  8000  feet  above 
the  sea ;  and  the  western  declination  of  the  country  from  this 
lake  and  the  Sheetskadee,  though  somewhat  broken  by  moun- 
tains, is  still  greater  during  the  first  300  miles ;  and  the  result 
which  we  should  expect,  is  in  accordance  with  fact,  viz.  that 
streams  run  off  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  Colorado,  in  a 
northwesterly,  and  from  that  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  in 
a  westerly,  direction,  forming  lakes  without  any  visiHe 
ortlet,  or  sinking  in  the  sands  of  that  desolate  waste, 
.'^^ctor  Lyman  writes  me  the  following  graphic  account  of 
Ih  ,of!  regions. 

'  The  traveller  journeying  northward,  after  leaving  Santa 
Fe  (Lat.  26°  N.),  passes,  for  the  space  of  300  miles,  alternate 
ranges  '  T  mountains,  separated  by  valleys  of  greater  or  less 
width,  some  exceedingly  fertile,  and  others  very  barren.  At 
times,  consequently,  he  finds  abuiidance  of  fine  grass  and  pure 
water  for  his  animals ;  and  at  others  so  desolate  and  parched 
87 


111' 


ii 


314 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


is  the  land,  that  he  has  to  make  long  days'  journeys  with 
scarcely  a  blade  of  food  or  a  drop  of  water  for  their  suste- 
nance. Between  Santa  Fe  and  Rio  San  Juan,  one  of  the  main 
branches  of  the  Colorado  of  the  West,  a  distance  of  150  miles, 
the  traveller  and  his  animals  are  sure  to  fare  well ;  for  most 
of  the  mountain  sides  and  valleys  abound  in  excellent  pastur- 
age and  pure  ice-cold  water,  trickling  down  from  the  heights 
where  the  melting  snows  feed  the  springs  till  late  in  the  sum- 
mer. After  crossing  the  San  Juan,  in  about  Lat.  38^  N.,  and 
app.oaching  the  valleys  of  the  Sheetskadee  and  Grand — the 
great  mountain  tributaries  of  the  Colorado, — the  country  be- 
comes generally  stciile,  and  broken  in  every  direction  by  deep 
ravines  with  perpendicular  banks,  opposing  almost  insur- 
mountable obstacles  to  the  traveller's  progress  j  compelling 
him  to  search  li  p-  d^vs  before  he  can  find  a  feasible  passage 
across." 

The  worthy  Doctor  thus  describes  the  travelling  down  the 
banks  of  the  Colorado :  "  The  water  in  nearly  every  instance 
after  leaving  the  crossing  of  the  Colorado  in  Latitude  SS^N., 
down  to  the  Californian  Mountains,  a  distance  of  seven  or 
eight  hundred  miles,  is  either  very  brackish  and  slimy,  or  so 
excessively  saline,  as  to  have  in  many  instances  a  ^atal  effect 
on  animals  and  men.  In  some  few  instances,  in<leed,  good 
waters  are  found  ;  but  like  visits  from  the  world  above,  they 
are  '  few  and  far  between.'  Sometimes,  too,  the  traveller 
crosses  vast  barren  plains  utterly  destitute  of  water,  and  upon 
which  vegetation  is  so  scarce  that  there  will  hardly  be  a 
blade  of  grass  to  a  square  mile  of  surface  I  Occasional' v  wild 
sage  {^salvia  officinalis)  is  met  with,  but  almost  destitute  of 
foliage.  This,  and  the  bare  stems  of  other  equally  naked 
bushes,  constitute  the  only  food  of  wayfaring  animals  on  these 
wastes.  There  are  a  few  spots  in  this  forsaken  region  where 
nature  has  attempted  to  chequer  its  desolation  with  green- 
ness. I  found  an  occasional  dry  river  bed,  moistened  only 
by  the  spring  rains  and  the  melting  snows  on  the  far  distant 
mountains,  which   produced   a   few  *  canes,'  a   diminutive 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


315 


species  of  the  arundo  hamhos,  and  sand  grass.  Ponds  of  salt 
water  occasionally  occur,  around  which  there  is  a  scanty 
supply  of  coarse  vegetation.  Over  these  dreadful  wastes — 
scathed  of  God — is  however  everywhere  found  a  scanty 
supply  of  the  wild  squash — the  cucumis  colocynthiSy  which 
serves  only  to  tantalize  the  perishing  traveller  with  the 
remem^  ance  of  fruitful  fields  and  pleasant  homes.  In  some 
places  this  fruit  is  even  abundant ;  but  the  pulp  when  ripe  is 
a  powerful  drastic  medicine,  and  when  green,  furnishes  a 
poor  apology  for  food  to  the  starving  emaciated  wanderer.  I 
was  informed  that  the  Paiuches  Indians  eat  it  when  in  the 
unripe  state,  which  is  probably  true  ;  for  I  saw,  at  different 
points,  great  numbers  of  the  pods  or  shells  scattered  around 
their  deserted  fires." 

"  In  journeying  down  the  Colorado  one  finds  a  few  spots  to 
which  travellers  have  given  names.  The  wayfarer  descends 
from  the  mouth  of  Green  River,  or  Sheetskadee,  to  a  spot 
called  Santa  Clara,  where  a  little  herbage  and  water  are 
found.  Near  this  point  the  banks  rise,  and  the  river  is  buried 
in  deep  and  roaring  chasms.  The  traveller  ascends  therefore 
till  he  reaches  another  point  called  the  Salt  Mountain,  and 
thence  descends  to  another  place  of  encampment  called  las 
VegaSf  where  there  are  about  one  hundred  acres  of  salt  grass. 
There  a  desolate  plain  commences,  which  extends  about  one 
hundred  miles,  partially  covered  with  loose  sand,  piled  into 
ridges  curiously  waved  over  the  general  surface,  and  in  the 
ravines,  whirled  by  the  winds  into  a  great  variety  of  fantastic 
forms.  These  ravines  are  very  numerous  and  deep ;  very 
difficult  to  ascend  and  descend ;  mere  parched  caverns,  into 
which  the  drifting  sands  are  driven  by  the  heated  winds.  On 
all  this  plain  there  is  no  vegetation  except  a  little  salt  grass 
on  the  margins  of  a  few  stagnant  pools  of  brackish  and  sul- 
phurous waters." 

When  Doctor  Lyman  passed  this  desert,  the  sands  were 
drifting  hideously,  and  he  was  only  guided  in  the  right  path 
across,  by  the  carcasses  of  the  horses  which  had  perished  in 


if 


ffi;n 


Iff 


.'4, 


^ 


V-^ 


•li 
■I 


i 


% 


!v 


316 


TtiAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


previous  attempts  to  pass  it.  And  such  appeared  to  be  the 
saline  character  of  the  soil,  and  so  destitute  of  moisture  was 
the  atmosphere,  that  the  flesh  of  these  carcasses,  instead  of 
being  decomposed,  was  dried  like  the  mwumies  of  Egypt ! 
From  this  sandy  waste  to  the  Californian  Mountains,  the  soil 
is  so  hard  that  horses  and  other  animals  leave  no  tracks 
behind  them.  The  waters  here  also  are  saline  and  sulphur- 
ous. Indeed,  this  valley  of  the  Colorado  of  the  West  has  no 
equal  on  this  continent  for  barrenness.  With  the  exceptions 
just  named,  it  is  a  vast  plateau  of  degraded  rocks,  almost 
destitute  of  organic  matter,  with  ravines  dotted  here  and  there 
with  bunches  of  wild  sage,  savine  bushes,  and  stunted  dwarf 
oaks — a  great  burial-place  of  former  fertility  which  can  never 
return.  In  evidence  of  this  opinion,  the  Doctor  mentions  some 
ruins  which  he  discovered  about  four  hundred  miles  up  the 
river,  and  a  short  distance  from  its  northern  bank.  They 
occupied  an  area  in  the  form  of  a  parallelogram,  cut  by  streets 
thirty  or  forty  feet  wide,  running  at  right  angles  to  each  other. 
The  edifices  were  in  a  state  of  great  decay.  They  had  been 
built  of  rough  fragments  of  trap  rock,  united  with  a  cement 
which  had  become  loose  and  friable.  The  blocks  of  buildings 
were  generally  crumbled  down,  so  as  to  lie  inclined  towards 
the  streets  on  the  outside  of  the  walls,  at  an  angle  of  30^  or 
40°  to  the  horizon,  and  six  feet  in  height.  They  were 
sparsely  covered  with  the  bushes  of  the  wild  sage.  The  long 
side  of  the  city  lay  east  and  west.  In  this  direction  it  was 
about  one  mile  long.  The  width,  north  and  south,  was  three 
quarters  of  a  mile.  In  the  centre  of  the  ruins  is  a  mound  of 
fragments  with  a  base  of  forty,  and  a  height  of  ten  feet. 

This  little  city  was  probably  overwhelmed  by  the  action 
of  those  volcanic  fires  which  have  melted,  shaken,  and 
transformed  the  whole  Pacific  coast  of  the  continent.  That  it 
was  a  place  for  the  habitations  of  men  appears  clear.  Among 
the  ruins  the  Doctor  found  fragments  of  burned  clay,  vessels 
of  a  globular  form,  some  of  which  had  a  white  ground  color, 
with  raised  black  images  of  birds,  and  of  bears  birds  and 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


317 


lels 

lor, 
nd 


otber  animals  with  human  heads.  The  outside  of  these  ves- 
sels was  glazed — the  inside  of  a  brick  color,  and  unglazed. 
There  were  four  principal  entrances  to  this  city  j  one  in  the 
centre  of  each  side. 

These  ruins  stand  in  the  midst  of  one  of  the  most  sterile 
wastes  on  the  Colorado.  A  small  wet  hollow  near  by  fur- 
nishes, by  digging,  a  little  brackish  water.  The  nearest  fresh 
water  is  thirty  miles  distant.  Fifteen  miles  to  the  north  is  a 
range  of  rocks,  the  highest  points  of  which  reach  an  elevation 
of  not  more  than  fifteen  feet.  In  the  middle  part  of  this  range 
is  a  deep  excavation  which  has  every  appearance  of  an  old 
silver  mine.  The  debris  about  it,  and  other  strong  indications, 
seem  to  authorize  the  belief  that  it  was  formerly  wrought  for 
that  precious  metal.  By  whom  was  it  wrought  ?  By  whom 
was  that  city  inhabited  1  By  what  great  convulsion  of  na- 
ture was  it  prostrated,  and  its  gardens  and  grain  fields  changed 
to  a  thirsty  desert  1  Three  Timpanigos  Utaws  whom  my 
friend  Lyman  met  could  give  no  answers  to  these  and  the 
like  inquiries,  and  they  had  no  legends  in  regard  to  the  origin 
of  these  ruins,  or  of  others  which  they  spoke  of  as  existing  in 
the  north  and  west.  Was  not  this  the  Cibola  of  the  early 
explorers  j  the  land  visited  by  the  Jesuits — filled  with  people 
and  wealth,  and  which  the  volcanic  fires  that  even  to  this 
day  groan  under  the  whole  western  coast  of  America  have 
seared  into  a  homeless  waste  1 

Doctor  Lyman  suffered  so  many  hardships  and  privations 
while  travelling  down  the  Colorado,  that  he,  as  well  as  his 
animals,  barely  lived  to  reach  the  green  fields  and  pure  waters 
of  the  Californian  Mountains.  He  found  the  country  around 
the  mouth  of  the  river  as  dry,  as  salt,  as  uninviting  in  every 
respect,  as  any  he  had  traversed.  But  striking  off  in  a  west- 
erly direction  from  a  point  about  one  day's  journey  from  its 
debouchure  into  the  Californian  Gulf,  he  arrived  at  a  river 
of  excellent  water  called  the  Amajaves.  The  source  of  this 
stream  is  in  the  marine  range  of  Californian  Mountains,  im- 
mediately east  of  the  Puebla  de  los  Angelos,  at  a  place  called 
27* 


rr' 


:i 


;il 

4 


318 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


F^'i; 


The  Cajon ;  a  peculiar  break  in  those  mountains  through 
which  there  is  a  safe  and  easy  passage.  This  is  a  very  sin- 
gular stream.  It  may  be  said  to  run  southeastwardly  about 
two  hundred  miles,  and  empty  into  the  Colorado.  But  on 
all  its  length  it  does  not  run  two  miles  without  entirely  dis- 
appearing in  the  sand.  So  that  it  presents  to  the  traveller  a 
long  line  of  little  rippling  lakes,  from  two  to  two  and  a  half 
feet  deep,  at  one  time  sunken  among  hard  flinty  hills  or  piles 
of  drifting  sands,  and  at  others  gurgling  through  narrow  vales 
covered  with  grass,  and  fields  and  forest^*  in  wHich  live  the 
deer,  the  black  bear,  the  elk,  the  hare,  and  many  a  singing 
bird. 

The  Cajon,  also,  in  which  it  rises,  is  a  great  curiosity.  The 
mountains  seem  to  have  been  cleft  asunder  perpendicularly, 
and  the  upright  walls  moved  a  short  distance  apart,  opening 
a  dark  winding  way  to  their  very  heart,  where  a  wider  space 
is  found — so  regularly  square,  with  sides  and  angles  so  box- 
like, that  it  has  been  aptly  called  cajon — a  box.  From  this 
spot  the  passage  winds  again  between  the  sides  of  the  cleft 
mountain,  accompanied  by  another  murmuring  stream  tending 
westward,  till  it  leads  the  wayfarer  into  the  sweet  plains  of 
the  Californian  sea-board ;  that  most  delightful  of  all  lands — 
that  paradise  of  the  continent,  if  not  of  the  world.  But 
before  describing  this  I  must  complete  my  account  of  the 
desolate  interior.  Of  this  there  remains  to  be  described  the 
rivers  Severe,  San  Juan,  and  Jila,  and  their  valleys,  the  Great 
Salt  Lake,  called  by  the  Indians,  Timpanigos,  and  the  desert 
lying  between  it  and  the  Californian  Mountains. 

About  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Colorado,  and  a  short  distance  north  of  that  stream,  a  river 
arises,  which,  on  account  of  its  rough  character,  the  Mexican 
Spaniards  have  named  Rio  Severe  —  Severe  River.  Its 
source  is  among  a  small  cluster  of  mountains,  where  it  pre- 
sents the  usual  beav.ciful  phenomena  of  rivulets  gathering 
from  different  quarter's — uniting — increasing — tumbling  and 
roaring,  till  it  reach'^  ihe  plain,  when  it  sinks  into  chasms  or 


SCENE9      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


319 


the 
[•iver 
lican 
Its 
Ipre- 
jring 
and 
or 


kenyons,  of  basalt  and  trap  rocks,  and  dashes  on  terribly  over 
fallen  precipices  for  about  eighty  miles,  where  it  loses  itself 
in  the  sand.  This  river  was  explored  by  an  American  trap- 
per, several  years  ago,  under  the  following  circumstances. 
He  had  been  hunting  beaver  for  some  time  among  the  moun- 
tains in  which  the  river  rises,  with  considerable  success, 
and  without  seeing  any  Indians  to  disturb  his  lonely  tranquil- 
lity. One  night,  however,  when  the  season  was  far  advanc- 
ed, a  party  of  the  Arapahoes,  which  had  been  watching  his 
movements  unseen  by  him,  stole  all  his  traps.  Thus  situated, 
without  the  means  of  continuing  his  hunt,  and  being  two  hun- 
dred miles  from  any  trading  post  where  he  could  obtain  a 
supply,  he  determined  to  build  a  canoe  and  descend  the  Rio 
Severe,  in  the  hope  that  it  might  bear  him  down  to  the  habi- 
table parts  of  California.  He,  therefore,  addressed  himself  to 
this  task  with  great  perseverance,  completed  his  bark,  and 
launched  himself  upon  the  angry  stream,  with  life  pledged  to 
his  undertaking,  and  that  daring  expf-tation  so  peculiar  to 
the  "  mountain  men,"  to  light  his  way  among  the  dark  and 
brawling  caverns  through  which  his  frail  and  perilous  craft 
■was  to  bear  him.  Seven  days  he  passed  in  floating  down  this 
stream.  Most  of  its  course  he  found  walled-in  by  lofty  per- 
pendicular cllfTs,  rising  several  hundred  feet  high,  dark  and 
shining,  and  making  palpable  his  imprisonment  within  the 
barriers  of  endless  solitude.  At  intervals  he  found  cataracts, 
down  which  he  passed  his  boat  by  means  of  lines,  and  then 
with  great  labor  and  hazard,  clambered  up  and  down  the  pre- 
cipices till  he  reached  the  waters  below.  On  these  rapids 
the  water  was  from  two  to  three  feet  deep,  and  a  hundred 
yards  in  width.  In  the  placid  sections,  the  stream  was  often 
thirty  and  forty  feet  in  t!:^pth,  and  so  transparent,  that  the 
pebbly  bottom  and  the  fish  swimming  near  it,  were  seen,  when 
the  sun  shone,  as  distinctly  as  the  like  appear  in  the  suppcs- 
ed  peerless  waters  of  Lake  George.  As  this  man  drew  near 
the  close  of  his  fifth  day's  journeying,  the  chasms  began  to 
disappear,  and  the  country  to  open  into  rolling  and  drifting 


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<      1      '   V. 


320 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


plains  of  sand,  interspersed  with  tracts  of  dark-colored  hard- 
pan.     About  the  middle  of  the  seventh  day,  he  came  to  the 
sands  in  which  the  river  was  swallowed  up,  and  hauling  his 
shattered  boat  on  shore,  explored  the  country  northwest,  for 
the  reappearance  of  the  stream.     But  to  no  purpose.     A  leaf- 
less dry  desert  spread  away  in  all  directions,  destitute  of  ev«ry 
indication  of  animal  life,  breathless  and  noiseless,  a  great 
Edora,  in  which  every  vital  function  was  suspended,  and 
where  the  drifting  sands  and  the  hot  howling  winds  warned 
him  that  he  must  perish  if  he  persisted.    He  therefore  left  his 
faithful  old  boat  and  made  his  way  back  to  the  mountains, 
where  he  lost  his  traps,  and  thence  travelled  to  Robidoux*  fort, 
on  the  upper  waters  of  the  San  Juan.     He  subsisted  on  snails 
and  lizards  during  his  journey ;  and  when  he  arrived,  was 
reduced  to  a  skeleton,  with  barely  strength  enough  to  creep 
into  that  solitary  fortress.     It  is  needless  to  add  that  he  was 
most  kindly  received  by  the  hospitable  owner,  for  who  does 
not  know  that  from  the  Arctic  seas  to  the  southernmost  limit 
of  the  fur-traders'  habitations,  the  wayworn  stranger  finds  a 
home  and  a  brother  at  any  of  their  posts  ?    These  iron  men 
of  the  wilderness,  like  those  who  combat  the  waves  and  the 
winds  of  the  seas,  never  fail  to  feel  a  bond  of  holy  brother- 
hood for  those  who  have  met  and  overcome  the  same  difficul- 
ties.     The  old  trapper  is  forgotten  j  but  his  exploration  of 
Rio  Severe  with  all  its  attendant  dangers,  undertaken  and 
accomplished  alone,  far  in  the  deserts,  hundreds  of  miles  from 
the  voice  of  civilized  man,  in  a  frail  canoe,  liable  to  be  swal- 
lowed up  by  the  torrent,  yet  daring  to  float  onward  down  a 
stream  of  cataracts,  whose  existence  became  known  to  hln 
only  as  he  approached  their  brink  and  heard  their  roar,  was 
a  noble  deed  of  perseverance  and  courage,  which  will  ever  be 
remembered  by  those  who  shall  be  interested  in  the  history  of 
that  wild  part  of  our  continent. 

The  Rio  San  Juan  is  a  fine  stream  of  mountain  waters, 
which  rises  in  the  Anahuac  ridge,  and,  running  in  a  west- 
wardly  direction,  empties  itself  into  the  Colorado  about  three 


TRAVELS       IN      THE      CALIFORMIAB. 


321 


Iters, 

rest- 

iree 


hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  its  mouth.    The  valleys  on  its 
upper  waters  have  been  described  in  my  friend  Doctor  Ly- 
man's account  of  his  journey  across  them  given  on  preceding 
pages.     And  it  only  remains  for  me  here  to  say  that  the  val- 
leys of  this  stream  below  those  portions  seen  by  the  Doctor 
are  mostly  barren — broken  by  mountains  and  deep  ravines ; 
in  a  word,  generally  resembling  the  lower  portion  of  the  vale 
of  the  Colorado,  in  hideous  desolation.    There  are  indeed 
some  fruitful  tracts  of  land  near  the  banks  and  along  the 
brows  of  the  neighboring  highlands,  which  produce  a  mode- 
rate share  of  vegetation.    In  the  rainy  season,  large  tracts  of 
country  also  bordering  on  th   middle  part  of  its  course  are 
pretty  well  clothed  with  grass.    But  when  the  dry  season  sets 
in,  the  country  is  parched  to  a  heap  of  red  dust ;  every  plant, 
except  trees)  the  different  species  of  the  cactus  or  prickly 
pear,  and  a  few  shrubs,  is  withered,  and  a  brown,  dying  as- 
pect, is  presented  by  the  valley  of  the  San  Juan.    This  will 
ever  be  a  desert,  till  those  vast  subterranean  fires  which 
scorched  it,  and  those  dry  winds  which  scorch  it  still,  shall 
cease  to  act,  and  the  dews  of  night  deign  to  fall,  and  the 
clouds  distil  upon  it  their  rains  at  proper  seasons. 

The  River  Jila  forms  the  southeastern  boundary  of  the  Cali- 
fornias.  It  rises  among  the  mountains,  west  of  Santa  Fe,  in 
Latitude  36^  north,  and  running  westwardly  a  distance  of  about 
five  hundred  miles,  falls  into  the  Colorado  about  sixty  miles 
from  the  Californian  Gulf.  It  is  a  rapid  rushing  stream  of 
excellent  water.  Its  banks,  like  those  of  the  Colorado,  in  a 
great  degree,  are  composed  of  basalt  and  trap-rock  rising  per- 
pendicularly much  in  the  manner  of  the  Palisades  on  the 
Hudson.  The  valleys  of  the  upper  branches  of  this  stream 
are  comparatively  rich  and  beautiful.  The  lofty  mountains 
among  which  it  rises,  the  higher  peaks  of  which  are  covered 
with  snow  throughout  the  year,  the  bold  cliffs  which  at  irre- 
gular intervals  burst  up  from  the  plains,  the  conical  hills  of 
rich  earth  clad  with  forests,  the  grass  fields  covered  with  wild 
animals  and  Indian  lodges,  present  a  panoramic  view  of  the 


.1 


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323 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


f. 


Jila  and  its  neighboring  lands,  ^hich  invites  us  to  expect 
hereafter  to  see  them  inhabited  by  a  somewhat  dense  and 
thriving  population. 

The  past  history  of  this  valley  well  delineated  would  fur- 
nish a  tale  of  great  interest.  This  was  a  part  of  the  field  in 
which  the  good  Fadre  Kino  administered  to  the  savages  the 
wholesome  truths  of  Christ's  Redemption.  Who  shall  ever 
learn,  till  the  great  scroll  of  the  past  is  opened  by  our  Maker, 
what  he  endured,  and  what  his  joy  was  to  suffer  thus  for 
others !  And  now  that  the  walls  of  his  missions  lie  crum- 
bling into  dust  on  the  banks  of  the  Jila,  and  the  Indian  has 
returned  to  his  wild  estate,  who  shall  be  able  to  know  how 
many  sorrows  he  alleviated,  how  many  pleasures  he  height- 
ened, and  what  well-springs  of  future  events  his  labors  have 
opened,  which  shall  enrich  and  gladden  the  hjsarts  that  shall 
beat  there  in  coming  time  1  Peace  to  the  good  man's  soul ! 
His  memory  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  love  great 
and  good  men,  devoted  to  deeds  of  righteousness.  This  val- 
ley was  also  one  of  the  stopping-places  of  the  Montezuma  or 
Village  Indians,  during  their  southward  movements  from 
Behring's  Straits  to  the  city  of  Mexico  and  its  vicinity.  And 
here,  it  is  said,  the  following  remarkable  prophecy  was  de- 
clared by  one  of  their  old  seers.  "  The  adorable  Sun  says 
that  we  shall  wander"  (a  certain  number  of  years)  "  and  build 
cities,  and  see  them  destroyed,  until  we  arrive  in  a  great  val- 
ley surrounded  by  proud  and  lofty  mountains,  in  which  shall 
be  fertility,  great  beauty  of  growing  things,  and  broad  lakes 
of  clear  sweet  waters.  From  one  of  these  lakes  an  eagle 
shall  rise  on  his  strong  wings  towards  the  God  whom  we 
worship,  with  a  serpent's  neck  in  his  beak  and  his  lower  part 
in  his  claw."  This  was  to  be  the  sign  that  they  should  wan- 
der no  farther,  should  build  a  city  among  the  Lakes,  should 
live  there  prosperously  a  certain  number  of  years,  at  the 
end  of  which  a  people  whiter  than  themselves  should  come 
and  conquer  them,  and  that  they  should  never  afterward  be 
enabled  to  obtain  their  independence.    Believing  in  this  pro- 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      C  A  L  I  F  0  H  N  I  A  8. 


323 


phecy,  they  saw  their  towns  on  the  Jila  tumble  into  ruins, 
and  travelled  southward,  building  others,  and  leaving  them, 
until  they  arrived  in  the  charming  valley  of  Mexico,  where 
they  found  the  lakes,  and  mountains,  and  fertility — saw  the 
eagle  and  the  serpent,  founded  the  city,  and  at  the  precise 
time  indicated  by  their  prophet  were  conquered  by  the  Spa- 
niards. Poor  Indians !  Too  true  was  the  augury.  You  now 
believe  that  perpetual  subserviency  is  the  lot  assigned  you  by 
the  decrees  of  Heaven,  and  when  you  pray  before  the  altar  of 
the  true  God,  you  still  believe  that  your  ancient  sage  spoke 
unwittingly  the  ordinance  of  the  Most  High.  Break  your 
chains !  Pour  out  again  the  heart's  blood  of  the  Children  of 
the  Sun,  as  you  did  when  Montezuma  led  out  your  hosts  to 
the  battles  of  freedom  !  Gird  on  the  armor  of  human  rights, 
and  drive  from  your  hearths  the  tyrants  that  call  you  free, 
and  scourge  you  to  the  work  of  slaves  !  But  let  us  return  to 
our  geography  of  the  Californias. 

ir  The  Timpanigos  or  Utaw  Lake,  sometimes  erroneously 
called  Lake  Bonneville,  and  other  names  which  writers  adopt 
in  order  to  pay  a  compliment  to  persons  who  never  saw  it,  is 
the  largest  sheet  of  salt  water  in  America,  -which  has  no  ap- 
parent communication  with  the  sea.  Its  length  and  breadth, 
and  the  quality  of  its  waters,  are  fully  described  in  my  work 
of  "  Travels  in  the  Great  Western  Prairies,  &c.,"  to  which  I 
would  refer  the  reader  for  some  interesting  particulars  in  re- 
gard to  it.  I  will  merely  add  in  this  place,  that  it  lies  between 
Lat.  40^  and  43°  N.,  and  Long.  36"*  and  37°  W.  from  Wash- 
ington. On  the  east,  southeast,  and  southern  sides  of  this 
lake  there  are  clusters  of  mountains  of  considerable  height, 
partially  covered  with  trees,  and  the  large  island  in  the  same 
is  said  to  be  inhabited. 

The  Timpanigos  Desert  is  the  largest  in  North  America. 
It  extends  north  and  south  from  the  Snowy  Mountain  range, 
in  Latitude  40^  N.,  to  the  Colorado,  and  east  and  west  from 
Lak6  Timpanigos,  to  the  mountains  which  form  the  eastern 
boundary  of  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquim ;  between  four 


11 


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v. 


324 


SCENES      IN      ""HE      PACIFIC. 


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and  five  hundred  miles  square,  of  sandy  and  hardpan  waste ! 
Little  is  known  of  the  central  parts  of  this  desert.  The  old 
trapper  who  explored  Sev6re  River,  saw  a  part  of  it.  All  its 
borders  have  been  traversed  m.jre  or  less.  The  Indians,  how- 
ever, give  accounts  of  its  whole  surface.  They  say  that  during 
their  ancient  wars,  unsuccessful  parties  were  driven  into  its 
depths  and  perished  for  want  of  w.iter  and  food,  and  that 
those  who  pursued  them.,  often  met  the  same  fate.  Their  le- 
gends and  their  own  knowledge  lead  t!iem  to  affirm  that  it  is 
one  entire  desolation,  with  an  occasional  spot  of  green  herbs 
growing  by  pools  of  salt  and  bitter  waters. 

Captain  Young,  whom  I  met  in  Oregon,  made  an  attempt  to 
cross  from  Lake  Timpanigos  to  Upper  California.  His 
supposition  was,  that  by  travelling  east  ,vard,  he  should  strike 
the  Severe  River  at  some  point  where  it  rose  from  the  sands, 
and  following  its  course,  should  be  led  to  the  bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco. He  therefore  load'.J  twenty  mules  with  dried  grass  at 
the  mountains  south  of  ihe  lake,  and  with  twenty  men,  and 
a  scanty  supply  of  dried  meat,  commenced  his  journey  on  foot 
over  four  hundred  miles  of  desert !  The  sequel  of  this  under- 
taking of  the  gallant  old  beaver  trader,  was,  tiiat  having 
travelled  until  his  animals  had  exh  lusted  their  supply  of  fod- 
der, and  had  all  died,  he  cut  food  from  their  carcasses  for 
himself  and  men^  and  commenced  his  return  to  the  lake.  Cn 
their  backward  ^vay  five  of  his  men  perished.  The  captain 
and  the  remaiiider  reached  the  lake  in  a  wretched  condiHon. 
This  was  the  last  attempt  to  explore  this  awful  waste.  And 
long  will  it  be,  ere  man  can  biow  the  r  dent  gloom  and  hor- 
rors of  its  dreadful  depths. 

On  the  northwest  s5de  of  this  Desert ' ,  a  partially  fruitful 
region,  called  the  Vale  of  Mary's  River.  This  stream  has  its 
source  in  the  Snowy  Mouij  tains,  about  three  hundred  miles 
from  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and,  running  southwestwsrdly  about 
one  hundred  and  sixty  miles,  empties  into  its  own  lake.  This 
lake  is  about  sixty  miles  in  length,  N.  and  S.,  and  about 
thirty  in  breadth.    It  has  received  so  much  sediment  from^the 


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TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  8. 


325 


surrounding  highlands  that  it  is  chiefly  filled  with  mud,  form- 
irig  a  series  of  swamps,  covered  with  hassocks,  and  of  lakes 
with  muddy  bottoms. 

This  whole   valley  is  quite   unpropitious  to   agriculture. 
The  soil  appears  to  be  £;ufficiently  rich  for  such  purposes,  but 
the  high  mountains  toward  the  sea  arrest  the  clouds  as  they 
come  up  from  the  southwest  during  the  season  of  rain,  and 
thus  prevent  the  deposit  of  sufficient  moisture  to  sustain  much 
vegetation.    There  are,  however,  some  pretty  groves  of  aspen 
and  pine  to  be  found  along  the  stream  and  in  the  hills,  among 
which  live  a  few  red  deer  and  elk.     The  stream  itself  is 
stocked  with  crawfish,  chub,  and  trout ;  and  on  its  surface 
swim  countless  flocks  of  ducks,  brant,  and  geese,  with  an  oc- 
casional pelican.     On  the  hill  tops  may  be  seen  the  eagle,  the 
magpie,  the  buzzard,  the  raven,  and  the  crow.    A  few  fertile 
spots  \i\.  on  the  banks  are  peopled  by  a  portion  of  the  Paiuches 
or  Root  Diggers ;  a  filthy  tribe,  the  prey  of  idleness  and  ver- 
nun.    This  valley  contains  large  tracts  of  wild  grass,  which 
will  be  valuable  in  coming  years  to  those  who  shall  travel 
■with  caravans  from  San  Francisco  to  '^-i  States.    But  the 
valley  of  Mary's  River  can  never  become  an  agricultural  dis- 
trict.   It  may  be  occupied  by  a  small  community  of  pastoral 
people,  who  shall  ensconce  themselves  among  the  surround- 
ing mountains,  and  lead  out  flocks  and  herds  to  feed  on  the 
wild  herbage.    Its  chief  value,  however,  will  be  derived  from 
its  being  on  the  best  route  between  the  States  and  the  Pacific 
Ocean. 


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CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Rio  San  Joaquim  and  Valley. — Rio  Sacramento  and  Valley. 

R'o  San  Joaquim. — ^The  most  interesting  portion  of  Upper 
California  in  many  respects,  is  the  upper  or  northern,  era- 
bracing  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  its  tributaries,  the  Sacra- 
mento, San  Joaquim,  and  Jesus  Maria  rivers,'  and  the  country 
bordering  on  these  waters. 

The  Rio  San  Joaquim  rises  in  a  lake  called  Buenavista, 
situated  in  Latitude  36°  N.,  and  about  three  hundred  miles 
northwest  of  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado ;  and  running  in  a 
northwesterly  course  nearly  six  hundred  miles,  falls  into  tide- 
waters at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 
This  stream  has  a  deep  and  tranquil  current.  Its  waters  are 
transparent  and  well  stocked  with  salmon  and  other  fish.  It 
is  navigable  for  small  steamboats,  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles.  A  high  range  of  mountains  on  the  northeast,  at 
an  average  distance  of  forty  miles  from  the  river,  bounds  its 
valley  in  that  direction  :  and  a  range  of  hills,  rather  low,  in 
the  north,  but  becoming  lofty  in  the  south,  bounds  it  on  the 
west,  forming  a  prairie  vale  six  hundred  miles  in  length ; 
nowhere  less  than  forty,  and  often  more  than  one  hundred, 
miles  in  width.  This  vast  plain  extends  indeed  with  little 
interruption,  from  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  to  the  Colorado, 
gradually  growing  wider  and  wider,  and  more  uneven  in  its 
surface,  till  it  reaches  that  river.  A  space  sufficient  for  an 
empire  !  A  very  large  proportion  of  its  surface  is  open  prai- 
rie, covered  with  grasses  and  a  species  of  wild  oats.  But  it  is 
so  diversified  by  lines  of  trees  skirting  the  streams,  by  wooded 
spots,  standing  out  like  islands  on  the  green  plain,  by  arms 
of  timber  stretching  far  down  from  the  mountain  sides,  and 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  8. 


327 


by  extensive  circular  groves,  connected  with  larger  forests  by 
a  thin  fringe  of  trees — that  the  valley  presents  the  appearance 
of  a  vast  series  of  plains  of  every  conceivable  area  and  shape, 
from  the  little  wood-bound  plantation,  to  the  township,  the  coun- 
Jty,  and  the  state.  Over  thii  immense  plain  rove  innumerable 
bands  of  wild  horses,  mules,  elk,  deer,  grisly  bears  and  other 
animals.  The  portion  of  the  valley  within  twenty  miles  of  the 
river  is  wholly  uninhabited.  The  Indians  do  not  feel  disposed 
to  live  there  ;  and  the  whites  have  plenty  of  room  on  the  *■  oast. 
There  are  large  tracts  of  excellent  tillage  lands  on  the  banks 
of  the  San  Joaquim,  and  in  the  valleys  of  several  beautiful 
tributaries  coming  into  it  from  the  eastern  mountains ;  particu- 
larly in  that  of  the  Merced.  But,  generally,  the  valley  of  the 
San  Joaquim  will  be  found  unsuitable  for  cultivation,  ^ts  soil  is 
manifestly  of  volcanic  formation,  and  filled  with  elements 
imfriendly  to  vegetation.  On  many  extensive  tracts  the  mu- 
riate of  soda  covers  the  ground  like  frost,  and  destroys,  with 
equal  certainty,  every  green  thing ;  while  other  tracts,  larger 
still,  abound  in  asphaltun?,  which  renders  the  i^-oil  too  compact 
for  tillage.  Thet^e  peculiarities,  however,  attach  oniy  to  the 
plains.  The  uneven  lands  of  the  great  valley,  and  of  the 
smaller  ones  of  the  tributaries,  and,  indeed,  all  the  swells, 
hills,  and  vales,  that  lie  about  the  two  ranges  which  bound 
the  valley  on  th"^  east  and  west,  are  sufficiently  freed  from 
these  destructive  ingredients  by  the  wintry  rains  which  wash 
them  down  to  the  plains  below.  The  ace  of  the  country 
among  these  highlands  is  very  beautiful,  the  soil  rich  and 
heavily  timbered ;  and  above  them  rise  the  mountait  >  bearing 
W  their  sides  forests  of  red  cedar  trees,  from  one  to  twel  e  feet 
in  diameter  and  of  proportional  height.  These  grow  to  the 
northward  of  the  Latitude  of  San  Antonio.  Thence  south- 
ward flourishes  a  species  of  white  pine,  of  larger  girth,  loftier, 
and  of  finer  grain,  than  can  be  found  in  the  States.  But  of 
the  central  and  flat  portions  of  the  valley  I  cannot  speak  so 
well.  It  contains  indeed  every  variety  of  soil — as  tracts  of 
loose  sand,  hard-pan,  gravel,  rich  loam,  and  ponds  of  salt, 


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328 


SCENES      IS      THE      PACIFIC. 


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bitter,  and  fresh  water.  Most  of  the  lakes,  however,  belong 
to  the  latter  class ;  and  the  larger  part  of  the  soil  furnishes 
pasturage.  There  are  very  many  swamps  or  marshes  hero, 
filled  with  tuleSf  a  large  rush,  ten  or  twelve  feet  high,  and 
from  one  to  two  inches  in  diameter,  having  a  bulbous  and 
branched  root,  eight  or  ten  inches  long,  and  six  or  eight  in 
diameter.  AVillows,  bushes,  and  a  few  shrubs  of  different 
species,  grow  over  the  plains.  The  cotton-wood  is  the  only 
large  tree  found  in  the  vicinity  of  the  river. 

The  climate  of  this  valley  is  its  greatest  misfortune.  The 
wet  season  extends  from  November  to  March — five  months  of 
the  year.  During  this  period  it  rains  without  cessation  for 
many  days  and  even  weeks,  and  the  low  country  being  very 
flat,  becomes  a  vast  assemblage  of  lakes.  In  the  month  of 
April  the  dry  season  begins,  and  save  the  heavy  dews,  there 
ss  nothing  to  moisten  the  earth  for  seven  long,  burning  months. 
Mr.  Kelly,  an  American  gentleman,  of  great  intelligence  and 
enterprise,  who  travelled  over  this  country  at  an  early  day, 
remarks,  that  "  in  crossing  the  prairies  in  Latitude  38^  30', 
N.,  during  the  month  of  August,  I  found  that  for  several  suc- 
cessive days  the  mercury  ranged  at  110°  (Fahrenheit),  in  the 
shade,  and  sealing-wax,  deposited  in  one  of  my  boxes,  was 
converted  into  an  almost  semi-fiuid  state."  This  intense  heat 
poured  down  so  many  months  upon  tl,  -nhmerged  prairies, 
evaporates  the  water  as  the  time  advances,  and  converts  the 
lakes  formed  in  the  wet  season  into  stagnant  pools  of  putrid 
water,  which  send  out  most  pestilential  exhalations,  convert- 
ing this  immense  valley  into  a  field  of  death. 

But  this  evil  can  be  remedied.  The  San  Joaquim  lies  so  low 
as  to  allow  these  lakes  to  be  drained  into  it.  When  therefore 
the  country  shall  be  properly  ditched,  the  waters  will  not  only 
flow  off,  but  will  bear  with  them  much  of  those  destructive 
salts  which  are  now  deposited  upon  the  soil.  And  thus,  I  be- 
lieve, the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquim  will  become  the  abode  of 
a  dense  population,  the  products  of  whose  industry  will  float 


T  R  A VELS 


THE      CALIFORNIA S 


down  the  placid  current  of  that  river,  to  the  great  commercial 
marts  of  that  and  other  lands. 

This  valley  is  now  the  great  hunting  ground  of  the  Califor- 
nians.  Vast  herds  of  wild  horses  and  elk  are  met  with  in  all 
parts  of  it.  The  latter  animal,  the  noble  elk,  is  hunted  by  the 
Spaniards  for  his  hide  and  tallow.  These  people  go  out  in 
large  companies,  with  fleet  horses,  and  lasso  them  as  th  y  do 
the  bullocks  near  the  coast.  The  deer  also,  and  antelope,  are 
found  here  in  great  numbers  ;  and  are  killed  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. The  grisly  bear  inhabits  thi»  mountain  sides  and  upper 
vales.  These  are  so  numerous,  fat  and  large,  that  a  common- 
sized  merchant  ship  might  be  laden  with  oil  from  the  hunt  of 
a  single  season. 

On  the  western  side  of  the  mouth  of  the  San  Joaquim,  there 
is  a  vast  tract  of  marshy  land,  and  some  hundreds  of  low  isl- 
ands in  the  Upper  Bay,  which  are  saturated  by  the  tides.  The 
usual  ebb  and  flow  at  this  place  is  about  four  feet  j  conse- 
quently this  low  surface  is  enriched  every  year  by  the  sedi- 
ment of  the  vernal  freshets,  and  yields  an  immense  growth  of 
rushes.    These  grounds  would  probably  make  the  best  rice 
lields  in  North  America.    The  water  of  the  tides  is  either  en- 
tirely fresh  or  very  slightly  brackish  :  it  may  easily  be  let  in 
upon  the  field  at  flood,  and  drawn  off  at  ebb.    These  Tulares, 
as  the  Californians  call  them,  those  thousand  isles  and  those 
great  rush  wastes,  will,  it  is  believed,  be  the  only  rice-fields 
of  any  value  on  the  Pacific  coast  of  the  continent.    A  noble 
and  «'  iluable  vale  is  that  of  the  San  Joaquim ;  six  hundred 
miles  of  prairies  covered  with  grass  and  wild  oats,  cut  by 
streams,  shaded  with  lofty  forests  !    Prairies,  some  ten,  some 
twenty,  others  one  hundred  miles  in  extent,  overhung  by  jut- 
ting promontories,  crowned  with  gigantic  forests,  the  wild 
grains,  grasses,  cattle,  horses,  leaping  deer,  the  grisly  beai 
and  the  stately  elk,  tossing  his  antlers  to  the  breezes,  are 
elements  of  its  present  state.     And  we  may  expect  when  the 
ox  treads  the  furrow,  and  the  axe,  and  the  flail,  awaken  their 
music  on  the  plains,  that  the  arable  portions  will  be  reclaimed 
28* 


I'M  "■ 


330 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


i 


and  rendered  fruitful,  while  the  prairies  will  give  sustenance 
to  immense  herds  of  domestic  animals. 

Rio  Sacramento. — The  Rio  Sacramento  is  much  larger 
than  the  San  Joaquim,  and  its  valley  contains  a  much  greater 
quantity  of  fertile  land.  The  r  uth  of  this  river  is  a  little 
north  of  that  of  the  San  Joaquim.  Indeed  these  two  streams 
mingle  their  waters  around  a  considerable  island  which  lies 
before  the  mouth  of  each.  They  both  enter  the  eastern  ex- 
tremity of  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  about  seventy  miles 
from  the  Pacific.  It  is  two  days'  hard  rowing  from  the  mouth 
of  this  river  to  the  junction  of  its  two  principal  branches, 
called  "  the  forks."  At  the  mouth  the  soil  is  peaty,  and  over- 
flowed by  the  spring  tides.  As  you  advance  higher,  where 
the  tide  has  no  influence,  the  soil  becomes  substantial,  pro- 
ducing roses,  arbutus,  and  other  shrubs,  most  luxuriantly,  as 
well  as  the  wildcats  and  rye.  These  grains,  resowing  them- 
selves from  year  to  year,  produce  perpetual  food  for  the  wild 
animals  and  Indians.  These  plains  are  burned  over  every 
year  by  the  Indians ;  and  the  consequence  is,  that  the  young 
trees,  which  would  otherwise  have  grown  into  forests,  are 
destroyed,  and  the  large  trees  often  killed.  Nevertheless,  the 
oak,  the  plane  tree,  of  immense  size,  the  ash,  of  an  excellent 
quality,  covered  with  the  wild  grape  vines,  fringe  the  stream 
everywhere,  and  divide  the  country  into  beautiful  glades  and 
savannas,  which,  when  the  leaves  are  fading,  when  the  grape 
hangs  in  the  greatest  profusion  on  the  limbs,  and  the  deep 
red  flowers  of  autumn  dot  the  grassy  fields,  and  birds  sing 
their  melancholy  hymns  to  the  dying  year,  give  the  finest 
picture  that  the  mind  can  conceive,  of  a  beautiful  wilderness. 
The  water  of  the  Sacramento  is  very  pure.  Its  banks  from 
the  mouth  to  the  forks  are  entirely  alluvial,  a  deposit  of  sand 
and  clay.  The  bottom  varies  from  a  very  loose  mud  and 
quicksand  to  a  stiff  red  clay. 

The  forks  lie  in  Lat.  38«>  46'  47"  N.,  and  Long.  O*'  47'  31 
East  of  Yerba  Buena,  near  the  entrance  of  the  Bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco.   The  stream  is  navigable  for  small  craft  to  the  forks  in 


*l 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIPORKIAS. 


331 


the  dry  season;  in  the  rainy  season  and  during  the  early  part 
of  the  summer,  ste'^m  vessels  of  three  hundred  tons  measure- 
ment can  ascend  its  eastern  branch  several  hundred  miles 
farther. 

It  is  difficult  to  convey  by  means  of  words  the  exceeding 
beauty  and  excellence  of  this  portion  of  the  valley  of  the 
Sacramento.  To  one  vfho  has  seen  it  all  attempts  to  do  so 
must  appear  tame  and  uninteresting.  I  may  say  that  the 
linear  distance  from  the  mouth  to  the  forks  is  about  sixty 
miles,  and  that  the  river  in  making  that  progress  meandeis 
one  hundred  and  fifty ;  that  for  the  most  part  of  this  diste  nee, 
within  the  verge  of  the  valley,  grows  a  belt  of  oak  trees, 
about  three  hundred  yards  wide,  crowded  with  flowering  vines 
and  wild  fruits,  and  interspersed  with  the  lofty  plane  and 
other  beautiful  trees,  variegating  the  scene ;  that  beyond  this 
belt,  on  either  side  of  the  river,  stand  clumps  of  forests  over  the 
endless  seas  of  grass  that  reach  away  to  the  distant  moun- 
tains; and  that  there  are  many  mounds  of  earth  on  these 
great  savannas  built  unknown  ages  ago  by  the  Indians,  from 
which  to  gaze  over  these  surpassing  regioji  ,  and  to  view  in 
safety  the  rush  of  the  spring-floods  covering  the  country  far 
and  near.  And  should  I  continue  the  attempt  to  lead  the 
reader  on,  despite  the  certainty  that  he  will  not  gain  thereby 
the  conception  of  it  which  I  desire  to  convey  to  him,  I 
might  state  that  it  is  an  open  champaign  country,  cut  on  the 
east  side  of  the  river  by  numerous  beautiful  tributaries  skirted 
with  timber,  and  on  the  west  dotted  and  striped  with  groves  and 
lakes,  and  that  this  is  one  of  the  richest  grazing  and  agricul- 
tural districts  of  the  Californias.  During  the  rainy  season,  the 
river  rises  from  eighteen  to  twenty-four  feet,  and  overflowing 
immense  tracts  of  prairies,  produces  a  succession  of  beautiful 
lakes,  through  which  its  floods  rush  towards  the  Gulf.  From 
the  upper  country  are  thus  brought  down  great  quantities  of 
rich  loam,  which  are  deposited  upon  the  lower  plains,  rendering 
them  as  productive  and  beautiful  as  the  banks  of  the  Nile. 
From  ten  to  thirty  miles  distance  from  the  river,  the  land 


ii 


'"Si 


332 


8CENI8     IN      THE      PACIVIC. 


if 


begins  to  rise  rapidly ;  the  open  vales  creep  up  into  the 
heights  among  brooks  and  forests,  till  lost  in  the  wilderness 
of  white;  red,  and  yellow  pine,  and  live  and  white  oak,  whose 
gigantic  trunks  stud  the  mountains  to  the  regions  of  perpetual 
frost. 

These  branches  of  the  Sacramento  are  strong  dashing 
mountain  streams.  The  eastern  one  rises  among  the  Sierras 
Nevadas,  or  snowy  mountain  range,  about  three  hundred  miles 
cast  of  Cape  Mendocino :  and  has  a  southwesterly  tortuous 
course  of  nearly  seven  hundred  miles  to  the  forks.  This  is 
the  largest  branch  of  the  Sacramento.  It  is  navigable  for 
small  craft,  as  before  observed,  several  hundred  miles  during  the 
wet  season,  and  will  be  very  uselul  in  floating  down  the  val- 
uable timber  of  its  vales,  and  of  the  mountain  sides,  to  less 
woody  regions  around  the  bay.  A  beautiful  chain  of  open 
plains,  with  a  rich  soil,  watered  by  numerous  streams  and 
rivulets,  and  skirted  by  the  finest  forests,  extends  the  distance 
of  seventy  or  eighty  miles  up  this  branch.  At  this  point,  in 
Latitude  39^  35'  N.,  are  the  first  rapids.  Here  the  traveller 
to  and  from  Oregon,  fords  the  river  in  the  dry  season.  The 
stream  is  here  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  yards  wide,  with 
four  feet  of  water  in  the  channel,  and  a  swift  current.  In  the 
winter  and  spring  the  depth  of  water  at  this  ford  is  ten  or  fif- 
teen feet 

At  this  place  commences  the  southerly  siope  of  the  Snowy 
Mountains ;  and  the  whole  aspect  and  charac  r  of  the  country 
becomes  still  more  beautiful  and  valuable.  The  soil  on  the 
hills  is  admirably  adapted  to  the  growth  of  forest  trees  j  and 
the  prairies  wind  among  the  wooded  elevations  and  along  the 
])anks  of  delightful  streams,  clothed  with  the  richest  and  most 
varied  abundance  of  vegetable  productions,  crowned  with 
countless  blossoms,  and  sending  out  on  the  air  the  most  grate- 
ful perfumes.  And  these  plains  and  wooded  hills  reach  to  the 
Snowy  Mountains,  where  in  Latitude  40°  there  is  an  easy 
passage  to  the  valley  of  Smith  River.    This  portion  of  these 


TRAVI'LS      IN      THE      CALIPORNTAS. 


333 


mountains,  lying  on  the  track  of  our  description,  deservey  espe- 
cial notice. 

A  spur  of  rugged  hills  puts  off  here  from  it,  and  runs  down 
southwardly  between  these  principal  branches  of  the  Sacra- 
mento to  its  forks.  These  heights  are  manifestl}  of  volcanic 
origin ;  and  Mr.  Kelly  suggests  "  that  as  they  abound  in 
basaltic  and  vitrified  stones,  scoriae,  &c.,  they  be  ciilled  the 
volcanic  range."  Along  their  base  stretches  a  bea'Uifnl 
chain  of  prairies  for  seventy  or  eighty  miles,  watered  by  nume- 
rous rivulets.  In  this  volcanic  ridge  I  found  a  stratum  of  earth 
which  the  Mexicans  call  tepetaie,  and  which  forms  a  cement, 
when  covered  by  water,  or  buried  so  far  below  the  earth  as 
to  retain  moisture.  It  is  so  soft  as  to  be  easily  penetrated  by 
an  iron  bar ;  but  it  becomes  as  solid  and  impenetrable  as  a 
rock,  on  being  exposed  to  the  sun  or  wind.  The  general  as- 
pect of  this  range  is  rude  and  black.  The  minor  hills  are 
covered  with  dark-colored  iron-stones  of  all  shapes,  with 
sharp  edges  resembling  clinkers  in  the  arches  of  a  brick-kiln ; 
and  with  reddish  clay  and  grav?l,  appearing  like  pulverised 
brick.  It  is  the  work  of  volcanic  £res,  and  may  properl'-  bear 
the  name  which  our  worthy  countryman  has  given  it. 

The  western  main  branch  of  the  Sacramento  is  nearly  eq..al 
in  size  to  the  eastern.  It  di:  charges  nearly  as  much  water, 
but  gathers  it  from  less  space.  It  rises  among  a  lofly  cluster 
of  the  Snowy  Mountains  about  thirty  miles  from  the  sea,  and 
running  in  a  south  by  easterly  direction  about  two  hundred 
miles,  meets  the  other  branch  at  the  forks,  with  a  generous 
flood  of  beautiful  waters.  The  tributaries  of  ihU  are  not  so 
large  merous  as  those  of  the  eastern  branch ;  and  the 

same  i  be  said  of  the  prairies  that  border  it  j  but  they  are 
quite  as  charming.  They  stretch  along  by  the  rushing  waters 
among  the  heights,  loaded  with  evergreen  forests,  like  fairy 
paths  of  olden  tales  j  rich,  rich,  glorious  to  behold  j  beauty 
reposing  in  the  lap  of  the  giant  mountains ;  to  whom  the 
sounding  streams  give  music ;  to  whom  the  mountain  dews 
give  jewels,  and  the  wild  flowers  incense.    Were  I  to  be  ex- 


i 


1' 


■.V-? 


II 


■1,1 


334 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


iled  from  human  kind — and  cast  off  from  the  sight  of  woman 
wife  and  child,— and  deprived  of  the  deep  pulsations  of  joy 
which  cluster  around  the  holy  altar  of  home,  that  old  Saxon 
citadel  of  the  virtues,  I  would  pray  for  a  cave  in  these 
heights  and  among  these  streamy  vales. 

The  timber  trees  on  this  part  of  the  southern  slope,  as  far 
northward  as  40*^,  are  worthy  of  notice.  •  The  white  pine  is 
very  abundant  and  of  a  large  growth.  Several  kinds  of  oak  are 
also  plentiful,  the  most  common  of  which  is  the  encina  hlanca, 
white  oak.  Its  average  height  is  forty  feet — its  trunk  six  or 
eight  feet  in  girth,  with  a  profusion  of  branches,  which  grow 
together  with  the  compactness  of  a  hedge,  and  in  perfect 
symmetry  of  form,  like  the  rounded  tops  of  an  apple  orchard. 
The  live  oak — qtiercus  virens — is  very  abundant,  and  grows 
only  on  the  highlands.  Its  diameter  is  usually  from  three  to 
four  feet ;  its  altitude  sixty  or  seventy.  This  timber  is  equal 
to  any  of  the  kind  in  the  world  in  solidity,  strength  and  dura- 
bility. 

But  the  noblest  specimen  of  this  tree  found  in  the  territory 
of  the  Sacramento,  is  the  white  oak  proper,  the  quercus  nava- 
lis.  It  grows  on  the  river  banks  and  the  low  hills  of  the  prai- 
ries. A  fine  tree  it  is ;  not  only  on  account  of  its  excellent 
qualities  as  timber ;  but  for  its  lordly  trunk,  which  one  might 
almost  say  preserved  an  uniform  diameter,  its  whole  length. 
And  the  actual  fact  is,  that  it  not  unfrequently  attains  a  girth 
of  fifteen  feet,  at  ten  or  fifteen  feet  from  the  root,  and  the 
branches  possess  corresponding  dimensions,  and  extend  a 
prodigious  distance  horizontally  from  the  stem.* 


•  KeUy. 


'p 


i 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

JcRUS  Maria  River  and  Valley — Sierra  Nevadas — Clamet  Uivcr  and 
Valley — The  Coast  Belt — Climate  of  the  California^ — Agricultural 
Capabilities — Condition  and  Wealth  of  the  Californias. 

The  Jesus  Maria  River  is  a  small  stream  which  rises  at 
the  distance  of  twenty  miles  from  the  Ocean,  among  that  part 
of  the  Snowy  Mountains  immediately  southwest  of  Cape 
Mendocino.  Its  head-springs  are  among  the  perpetual  snows 
of  those  highlands ;  and  flowing  about  three  hundred  miles, 
over  precipices' and  through  prairies,  it  falls  into  the  north- 
west part  of  the  Bay  San  Francisco.  This  stream,  in  its 
upper  course,  runs  among  barren  rocks  till  its  rivulets  gather 
into  a  current  of  some  magnitude,  when  it  enters  a  forest 
region  of  pines,  cedars,  and  other  terebinthine  trees,  and  lower 
down  is  bordered  by  oaks  of  various  species,  chestnut,  hickory, 
walnut,  oak,  and  plane  trees. 

This  region,  embracing  the  wide  tract  between  the  Sacra- 
mento valley  and  the  sea,  and  between  the  Bay  San  Fran- 
cisco and  the  Snowy  Mountains,  is  not  less  desirable  than  the 
country  on  the  Sacramento.  It  is,  however,  very  diiTerent. 
Instead  of  six  or  seven  hundred  miles  of  continuous  plains  and 
forests,  with  mighty  streams,  coursing  'down  to  a  common 
outlet,  it  is  a  country  of  hills  and  plains,  rising  one  above 
another  northwardly,  from  the  sweet  prairies  at  the  Bay  to 
the  bare  and  lofty  mountains  in  Latitude  40^  N.  The  portion 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Bay,  forty  miles  square,  is  chiefly 
prairie,  broken  by  lines  of  forest  and  woody  ridges ;  the  next 
forty  miles  northward,  and  of  a  like  width,  consists  princi- 
pally of  extensive  plains  covered  with  various  kinds  of  timber 
and  high  precipitous  hills,  clad  with  forests  of  white  pines, 
whose  trunks  vary  from  nine  to  fifty  feet  in  circumference, 
and  from  one  to  nearly  three  hundred  feet  in  height,  hanging 


'li 


m 


336 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


over  little  flowering  prairies,  among  the  groves  on  the  low- 
lands; noble  columns  of  nature's  architecture,  supporting 
cone-formed  capitals  of  growing,  living  green  !  A  land  of 
the  wildest  enchantment !  The  hooting  owl  and  the  cuckoo 
are  there  at  midnight,  and  the  little  birds  twitter  to  the  bab- 
bling rivulets  of  the  vales.  Far  reaching  away  to  the  north 
are  piled  the  naked  cold  summits  of  the  Snowy  ridge.  This 
is  a  vast  slope  of  excellent  land,  which  will,  when  subdued, 
equal  any  other  in  the  world.  Tht  great  Bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco on  the  south,  and  the  Bay  of  L  )dega  and  the  Ocean  on 
the  west,  give  it  a  position  as  a  farming  and  commercial  dis- 
trict which  is  scarcely  surpassed  by  the  valley  of  the  Clamet, 
or  of  the  San  Joaquim  and  Sacramento. 

Stretching  across  the  north  of  these  splendid  regions  are  the 
Snowy  Mountains.  This  range  of  highlands  forms  a  natural 
boundary  between  the  Californias  and  Oregon.  But  the 
ignorance  of  our  negotiators  with  Spain,  or  their  criminal 
neglect  of  duty,  gave  us  the  parallel  of  42^  N.,  instead  of  this 
noble  barrier  of  craggy  ice  and  snow.  Consequently  the 
Californias  extend  beyond  these  mountains,  and  embrace  the 
valley  which  lies  between  the  Snowy  range  and  a  spur  of  the 
President's  range,  which  puts  out  westward  from  Mount  J.  Q. 
Adams,  in  Latitude  42^  10'.  The  average  height  of  these 
hills  is  about  2700  feet  above  the  sea.  This  vale  is  about 
fifty  miles  wide  and  one  hundred  in  length.  The  Clamet 
river  waters  it.  This  stream  has  two  principal  sources ;  the 
one  among  the  snows  of  Mount  Monroe,  in  Latitude  43°  20' 
and  about  one  hundred  miles  from  the  sea ;  the  other  in  a 
beautiful  mountain-lake,  with  a  surface  of  about  tw^o  hundred 
square  miles,  lying  further  south.  Both  these  branches  are 
furious  mountain  torrents,  tumbling  down  lofty  acclivities, 
into  little  valleys,  where  they  run  a  few  miles  with  a  compa- 
ratively peaceful  current,  and  then  dash  and  roar  again  over 
another  precipice ;  and  so  'continue  till  they  reach  their  con- 
fluence. Thence  the  Clamet  moves  on  with  a  heavy  whirling 
flood,  until  within  thirty  miles  of  the  sea,  where  it  breaks 


*  t 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


337 


tumultuously  through  a  range  of  high  hills,  and  meets  tide- 
water ;  and  thence  proceeds  in  a  northwesterly  direction  to 
the  Ocean.    The  aspect  of  the  country  lying  on  this  stream  is 
singularly  charming.     The  mountain  sides  on  the  south  rise 
gradually,  and  on  one-third  of  their  elevation  are  clothed  with 
forests  of  pine,  cedar,  and  other  evergreens.     The  overtopping 
peaks  shine  with  drifting  sno^vs.    The  highlands  on  the  north 
are  generally  covered  by  trees,  with  rugged  crags  beetling 
out  over  their  tops ;  and,  at  intervals,  conical  peaks  arise,  in 
some  instances,  in  clusters,  and  in  others,  in  solitary  magnifi- 
cence, over  the  lower  hills.     These  peaks  are  frequently  ver}' 
beautiful.      Their  form  is  that  of  the  frustum  of  a  cone ; 
around  their  bases  are  green  forests ;  on  their  sides  hangs 
the  dwarf  cetlar  tree,  pendant  in  the  air ;  on  their  very  top, 
in  the  cold  season,  is  a  cap  of  snow ;  and  down  their  steep 
sides  murmur  little  brooks.     The  largest  of  these  peaks  lie, 
however,  to  the  eastward,  in  the  President's    range.    The 
most  conspicuous  of  these  is  Mount  Jackson,  in  Latitude  41^ 
40'  N.    This  is  the  highest   elevation  in  the  range  to  which 
it  belongs — rising  nearly  seventeen  thousand  feet  above  the 
Ocean,  in  great  abruptness,  grandeur,  and  beauty  of  outline. 
Its  base  rests  among  deep  evergreen  woods ;  and  it  is  girdled 
higher  up  with  shrubs  and  hardy  plants,  to  the  region  of 
frosts ;  and  there  commence  the  sheeting  snows  which  spread 
wide  and  high  its  vast  head  with  the  desolation  of  eternal 
cold.     The  pathway  between  Oregon  and  the  Californias 
passes  near  it. 

The  valley  itself  is  a  rolling,  irregular,  inclined  plane, 
broken  by  forests  and  isolated  hills.  The  latter  spring  often- 
times in  the  midst  of  the  prairies,  like  immense  haystacks, 
several  hundred  feet  high,  some  in  clusters,  and  others  soli- 
tary. These  sometimes  occur  in  the  forests ;  and,  in  such 
cases,  they  are  often  castellated  with  basaltic  rocks,  presenting 
the  appearance  of  ruined  castles.  The  trees  of  the  Clamit 
Valley  consist  principally  of  the  same  various  species  of  the 
oak  which  grow  on  the  other  side  of  the  Snowy  ridge. 
29 


1! 


338 


SCENES      IN      THU      PACIFIC 


There  is  one  tree  here  also  in  great  abundance,  which  d^es 
not  prevail  on  any  other  part  of  the  northwesi  coast ;  a  spe- 
cies of  Myrtus — the  largest  of  which  measure  twelve  feet  in 
jjifth,  and  one  hundred  feet  in  height.  All  its  leaves,  wood 
and  fruit,  are  strongly  aromatic,  yielding  an  odor  like  Myrtus 
PimentOt*  and  producing  sneezing  like  pepper.  The  fruit  is 
large,  globular,  and  covered  with  a  fine  green  ikin,  enveloping  a 
small  nut  with  an  insipid  kernel,  which  the  squi.rel  eats  with  a 
great  relish.  So  fragrant  is  this  tree,  that,  whe>  llie  groves  are ' 
moved  by  the  wind,  a  delicious  perfume  jfills  all  the  surround- 
ing air. 

The  soil  on  the  open  plains  of  this  delightful  vale  is  very 
rich ;  and,  sinqe  the  climate  is  most  salubrious,  aS  well  as  most 
favorable  to  vegetation,  this  valley  will  hereafter  become  one 
of  the  most  enchanting  abodes  of  man.  Indeed,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  decide  whether  to  prefer  this  or  the  vales  on  the 
south  side  of  the  Sno>vy  Mountains,  were  it  not  for  that  un- 
rivalled Bay  of  San  Francisco,  which  connects  the  land,  whose 
streams  flow  into  it,  with  the  commerce  of  tiiu  world  more 
iargelv  ind  intimately  than  the  Clamet  can  do.  In  fact  this  river 
is  both  too  rapid  and  too  small  for  ship  navigation ;  and  the 
depth  of  the  water  en  the  bar  at  its  mouth  being  only  two  and  a 
half  fathoms,  it  will,  of  course,  never  furnish  a  harbor  suitable 
for  extensive  maritime  trade.  But  it  is  a  sweet  valley  for  the 
growih  of  a  happy  and  enlightened  population ;  a  lovely  spot 
where  the  farm-house,  that  temple  of  the  virtues,  may  lift  its 
rude  chimney  among  the  myrrh  t<ees ;  where  the  wife,  faith- 
ful in  her  love  to  her  husband,  and  true  to  all  the  holy  instincts 
of  the  mother,  shall  o/Ter  her  pure  heart's  lindivided  devotion 
at  the  altar  of  Home  \  Home  !  that  only  refuge  of  man  from 
the  toils  and  pains  of  the  outer  world ;  that  sanctuary,  the 
desecration  of  which  turns  his  h  ^ai  t  to  flint,  and  his  affections 
into  fountains  of  gall. 

The  Valley  of  the  Clamet  will  be  lighted  from  the  hearths 
of  happy  homes  ere  long,  and  will   be   der«<^ly  peopled. 

*  Douglu. 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


339 


Sixty  rniles  square  of  productive  soil,  surroj^nded  with  every 
beauty  of  mountain  and  forest,  sprinkled  with  sweet  groves, 
and  threaded  with  streams  of  pure  water,  all  under  a  genial 
climate,  render  it  a  magnificent  site  for  the  dwellings  of  man* 

As  we  pass  southward  in  our  geographical  view  of  the 
Californias  we  find  remaining  to  be  described,  that  belt  of 
country  extending  from  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco  in  Latitude 
37^  N.  to  the  port  of  San  Diego,  in  Latitude  32°  N.,  and 
bounded  east  by  the  marine  range  of  mountains,  and  west  by 
the  Ocean.  It  is  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles  long,  and  from 
fifteen  to  forty  miles  wide. 

The  general  aspect  of  this  region  is  that  of  an  open  country, 
varied  by  patches  of  trees  of  noble  growth,  and  with  lines  of 
the  same  along  the  streams.  The  northern  half  of  it  consists 
of  rolling  alluvial  plains  without  rock  or  stone,  traversed  by 
low  mountains  of  porphyry,  basalt,  and  jasper,  partially  cov- 
ered with  pine,  cedar,  and  oak  forests.  The  plains  between 
these  highlands  are  well  watered,  and  of  a  rich,  enduringsoil. 
The  southern  half  of  the  region  is  somewhat  more  broken  by 
the  mountains  ;  and  is  not  so  well  supplied  with  trees  and 
streams.  But  there  are  mamy  very  large  tracts  of  rich  plains, 
covered  by  forests  of  live  oak  and  other  valuable  trees ;  and 
numerous  broad  prairies,  with  a  pliable  and  inexhaustible 
soil.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  say  that  this  is,  indeed,  the  most 
valuable  part  of  the  Californias,  and  true  it  is,  that  this  belt 
of  country,  lying  between  the  Latitudes  thus  named,  is  the 
crowning  glory  of  Upper  California,  as  will  appear  oncoming 
pages. 

Climate. — For  the  space  of  seventy-five  miles  northward 
from  the  Cape  San  Lucas,  the  air  is  moistened  by  the  vupors 
of  ihe  sea  and  the  exhalations  from  many  parts  of  the  ground. 
The  earth  is  watered  by  numerous  little  currents  running 
among  the  hijls,  and  clothed  with  tropical  vegetation.  From 
this  point,  seventy-five  miles  north  of  the  Cape,  to  the  Latitude 
of  Loretto,  are  high  craggy  mountains  and  a  barren  soil,  the 
mere  cinders  of  volcanic  action.    On  account  of  the  increased 


340 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC 


distance  of  the  ii^erior  from  the  sea  and  the  Gulf,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  streams  of  water,  the  heat  is  excessive ;  as  great  as 
in  Arabia,  or  Sahara.  A  few  sunken  vales  separated  from  one 
another  and  the  world,  by  vast  tracts  of  burnt  heights,  enjoy 
the  cooling  influences  of  shady  trees  and  springs  of  water. 
And  along  the  coast,  the  sea  breezes  and  some  small  streams 
bursting  from  the  barren  mountains,  give  some  humidity  to 
the  atmosphere  in  several  places,  and  scent  it  with  vegetation. 
But  these  are  only  unimportant  qualifying  circumstances  to 
the  general  fact,  that  the  sun  heats  that  lofty  belt  so  fiercely 
that  vegetation  refuses  to  grow,  and  water  to  run,  it  is  so 
soon  swallowed  by  the  thirsty  earth  or  evaporated  by  the 
parched  air.  From  the  Latitude  of  Loretto  to  the  Latitude  of 
San  Diego,  33^  N.,  the  air  becomes  milder.  In  the  mountains, 
although  they  are  not  so  high  and  rugged  as  those  farther 
south,  the  temperature  is  sometimes  so  low  in  winter  as  to  pro- 
duce frost ;  and  on  the  coast,  there  is  an  increase  of  humidi- 
ty. Between  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  and  the  Pacific,  there 
is  a  region  of  very  delightful  climate.  The  mountains  increase 
in  height,  and  among  them  are  many  beautiful  plains,  watered 
with  abundant  springs  and  brooks,  and  interspersed  with  many 
pleasant  woodlands — which  together  render  the  air  charming- 
ly temperate. 

In  the  country  between  the  Gila  and  the  Colorado,  there  is 
a  great  variety  of  temperature.  From  the  junction  of  the  two 
rivers,  for  the  distance  of  200  miles  up  the  Colorado,  and 
about  one  hundred  up  the  Gila,  the  climate  is  exceedingly  hot 
in  summer,  and  in  winter  rather  frosty.  The  generally  sandy 
and  barren  soil,  and  a  vertical  sun,  produce  the  one,  and  the 
contiguity  of  frozen  mountains  the  other.  The  valley  of  the  great 
Salt  Lake  is  very  hot  and  dry.  Some  few  small  streams  and 
the  partially  fertile  tracts  lying  on  their  banks,  and  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Snowy  Mountains,  and  the  vegetation  at  their 
bases  in  the  south-west,  modify  this  description  somewhat ;  but 
generally  this  great  basin  of  former  volcanic  fires  has  a  dry 
and  sultry  climate. 


i 


# 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


341 


The  Valley  of  the  San  Joaquim  and  its  extension  toward  the 
head  of  the  Gulf  of  California  is  exceedingly  hot  and  sultry. 
The  Marine  range  on  the  west  effectually  prevents  the  sea 
breezes  from  reaching  it ;  and  if  any  other  winds  are  active,  the 
monotonous  level  of  the  northern  portion,  the  short  sharp  sand 
hills  of  the  southern,  and  the  long  lines  of  wood  which  encircle 
the  prairies  and  fringe  the  streams,  prevent  their  circulation, 
and  produce  there,  in  a  high  northern  Latitude,  all  the  heat 
and  consequent  discomforts  of  the  torrid  zone. 

The  climate  of  the  Valley  of  the  Sacramento  is  exceedingly 
various.  Near  the  mouth  of  that  stream,  and  northward 
eighty  miles  to  the  forks,  the  heat  of  the  summer  sun  is  in- 
tense ;  but  is  much  modified  by  occasional  showers,  and  the 
humid  breezes  from  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco.  Higher  up 
among  the  narrow  prairies,  along  the  banks  of  both  forks 
and  their  tributaries,  the  dashing  of  cascades,  the  shading 
influences  of  lofty  and  wooded  mountains,  and  the  rich  carpet- 
,  ing  of  a  luxuriant  vegetation,  produce  a  temperature,  than 
which  a  more  desirable  cannot  be  found  in  any  country.  An 
incomparably  fine  soil,  nestled  in  long  and  delicately  curved 
lines  among  scenery  of  the  wildest  mountain  cast,  with  water 
from  the  overlooking  snows  and  glaciers,  and  fanned  by  air 
which  can  claim  kindred  with  that  of  Italy  or  Greece,  is  a 
collection  of  excellences  which  are  found,  I  believe,  on  that 
spot  alone  in  North  America.  The  climate  of  the  territory 
lying  between  that  just  described  and  the  sea,  and  for  forty 
miles  around  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  is  equally  fine,  with 
the  exception  that  heavy  fogs  press  up  from  the  Bay  and  the 
Pacific  during  a  portion  of  the  summer  months.  But  this  is 
to  be  deemed  rather  a  good  than  an  evil ;  for  moisture  is 
thereby  distilled  over  the  thirsty  ground  during  the  dry  sea- 
son ;  and  the  breezes  which  bear  it  over  the  land,  come 
freighted  with  the  cooler  atmosphere  of  the  sea,  to  temper  the 
air,  and  render  it  more  healthful  and  agreeable. 

The  climate  of  that  portion  of  the  Californias  which  lies 
between  the  Marine 


ige 


fe-  ^' 


:^. 


'\.ii 


11 


29' 


11 


342 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


pressions  of  admiration  from  every  traveller  in  the  country 
since  it  was  discovered.  But  in  oi;;der  to  give  a  clear  idea  of 
it,  we  will  speak  of  it  in  detail.  The  intense  heat  of  summer 
begins  in  the  month  of  June,  when  every  leaf  of  herbage  south 
of  Monterey  is  dried  to  a  cinder.  The  fogs  generally  moisten 
the  coast  to  the  north,  and  keep  it  green. 

On  the  coast  south  of  Monterey,  the  thermometer  some- 
times rises  to  lOS*'  or  110^  Fahrenheit,  in  still  summer  wea- 
ther J  but  usually  the  sea-breezes  keep  it  down  to  70^  and 
75*^.  North  of  Monterey,  the  fogs  always  accompany  the 
hottest  weather,  and  modify  its  temperature. 

Some  few  points  on  this  coast  are  visited  by  disagreeable 
sea  winds.  But  these  places  are  smrll  and  few  in  number. 
And  yet  this  is  doubtless  as  fine  a  climate  as  can  be  found. 
No  causes  of  disease  exist  here. 

Agriculture. — The  agriculture  of  Upper  California  is  as 
yet  confined  to  the  region  lying  between  the  Marine  range 
and  the  sea,  and  is  chiefly  carried  on  by  the  converted  Indians 
at  the  Missions.  And  when  we  inform  the  reader  that  the 
mode  of  cultivation  has  not  changed  since  the  first  settlement 
of  the  country,  its  rude  and  unskilful  character  will  be  easily 
imderstood.  A  few  statements,  however,  may  make  it  more 
manifest.  When  a  field  is  brought  under  the  plough,  it  is 
planted  with  the  same  crop,  as  oats,  or  wheat,  &c.,  until  it  is 
exhausted ;  and  then  permitted  to  lie  waste,  until  it  acquires 
the  power  to  produce  the  same  crop  again.  Alternation  of 
crops  is  deemed  a  heresy  always  to  be  avoided. 

The  grains  raised  in  the  Californias,  are  maize  (Indian 
corn),  oats,  wheat,  and  barley.  Peas,  and  a  small  bean  called 
frixohj  are  also  cultivated.  Maize  is  the  staple  bread  corn 
of  the  country.  It  is  cultivated  in  drills,  and,  even  with  the 
little  skill  used  in  raising  it,  produces  abundantly.  Wheat  is 
sown  broad-cast  as  with  us ;  and,  strange  to  tell,  such  is  the 
loose  and  rich  quality  of  the  soil,  that  the  seed  which  falls  at 
the  harvesting  of  the  first  crop,  yields  without  the  aid  of 
plough  or  harrow  two-thirds  of  a  crop  the  second  season,  and 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  8. 


343 


half  a  crop  the  third.  My  friend  Dr.  Marsh,  a  resident  on 
the  banks  of  the  Rio  Sacramento,  and  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  Californias  for  the  last  fifteen  years,  writes  the  au- 
thor thus :  "  The  southern  parts  of  Upper  California  arc 
generally  too  dry  and  warm  for  the  successful  cultivation  of 
wheat ;  tolerable  crops,  however,  are  raised.  But  from  Mon- 
terey northward,  and  particularly  in  the  vicinity  of  San  Fran- 
cisco's Bay,  most  extraordinary  crops  are  raised  with  very 
negligent  cultivation.  It  is  not  uncommon  to  make  two, 
three,  and  even  five  crops  from  only  once  sowing.  The 
average  annual  yield  is  from  thirty  to  fifty  bushels  from  one 
of  seed  sown.  In  one  particular  instance,  in  which  something 
more  than  ordinary  care  was  used,  and  ol  which  I  was  an 
eye-witness,  from  ten  bushels  sown,  three  thousand  six  hun- 
dred and  fifty-two  bushels  were  harvested."  Barley  and  oats, 
the  latter  more  especially,  since  their  introduction,  have  spread 
very  widely  over  the  plains,  and  are  now  seen  everywhere 
growing  without  culture  most  luxuriantly,  and  in  immense 
tracts.  Maize  returns  about  one  hundred  and  fifty-fold.  In 
Lower  California,  these  grains  can  be  raised  only  in  localities 
which  can  be  irrigated.  In  1839,  the  harvested  crops  of 
grains  in  Upper  California  amounted  to  69,000  bushels  of 
wheat,  22,000  of  maize,  3,000  of  frixoles,  15,000  of  barley, 
700  of  peas.  When  an  intellectual  and  industrious  race 
shall  plough  that  soil,  and  harvest  its  generous  crops,  the 
Californias  will  become  the  granary  of  "Western  America. 

The  Irish  and  the  sweet  potato  have  been  introduced  by 
American  settlers,  and  thrive  remarkably  well.  Cabbages, 
turnips,  and  other  garden  vegetables  have  not  yet  been  tested. 
But  no  doubt  can  be  entertained  that  these  would  grow  as 
well  as  any  other  plants. 

Hemp  and  flax  have  been  tried,  and  prove  congenial  to  the 
climate  and  soil. 

But  the  grape  will  undoubtedly  be  the  great  staple  product 
of  the  Californias.  It  is  now  considerably  cultivated.  On 
this  subject  my  intelligent  friend  Dr.  Marsh  writes  thus : 


■'^li 


« 4i 


^ 


■-■Hi 


344 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


* 


"  Nearly  the  whole  of  the  Californias  is  well  adapted  to  the 
cultivation  of  the  vine.  I  have  been  assured  by  Mons.  Louis 
Vignes,  a  native  of  Bordeaux,  France,  that  the  soil  and  cli- 
mate of  California  are  superior  to  any  part  of  France  for  this 
kind  of  culture.  The  competency  df  this  gentleman  to  decide 
on  the  subject  is  most  satisfactorily  proven  by  the  large  for- 
tune he  has  made  at  this  same  business  here  in  the  short  pe- 
riod of  six  years ;  although  his  vineyard  has  not  yet  come  to 
maturity.  The  olive-tree  also  flourishes  exceedingly  well. 
Figs,  lemons,  and  oranges,  are  common  south  of  Monterey, 
and  produce  abundantly  all  the  year.  North  of  that  point, 
figs  are  very  productive  and  excellent — but  we  get  only  one 
crop  a  year.     Cotton  and  tobacco  also  thrive  finely." 

Rice  may  be  raised  in  untold  quantities  about  the  waters 
of  the  San  Joaquim  and  Sacramento.  The  immense  fresh 
vater  marshes  about  the  mouths  of  these  streams  are  capable 
of  being  turned  into  fields  for  the  production  of  this  grain,  at 
very  trifling  expense.  Indeed,  it  may  be  confidently  csserted, 
that  no  country  in  the  world  possesses  so  fine  a  climate,  cou- 
pled with  so  productive  a  soil,  as  the  sea-board  portion  of  the 
Californias,  including  the  territory  on  the  Bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  the  Rivers  San  Joaquim  and  Sacramento.  But  its 
miserable  people  live  unconscious  of  these  things.  In  their 
gardens  grow  the  apple,  the  pear,  the  olive,  fig,  and  orange, 
the  Irish  and  sweet  potato,  the  yam  and  plantain  most 
luxuriantly,  side  by  side ;  and  yet  they  sleep,  and  smolce,  and 
hum  some  tune  of  Castilian  laziness,  while  surrounding  Na- 
ture is  thus  inviting  them  to  the  noblest  and  richest  rewards 
of  honorable  toil. 

But  this  idleness  notwithstanding,  the  Californians  are  rich  ; 
rich,  in  the  most  luxuriant  wild  pastures,  and  the  cattle, 
mules,  horses,  and  wild  animals  that  feed  upon  them.  The 
immense  number  of  these  animals  in  the  time  of  prosperity 
among  the  Missions,  may  be  gathered  from  another  extract 
from  Dr.  Marsh's  letter ;  "  Some  of  the  Missions  were  for- 
merly possessed  of  great  wealth.    For  several  years  during 


''>  'i 


r>  "i 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


345 


the  civil  wars  of  the  Mexican  Revolution,  no  vessels  of  any 
kind  visited  this  coast,  and  both  the  Missions  and  private  fami- 
lies were  obliged  to  rely  entirely  on  their  own  resources  for 
supplies  of  every  kind.  And  when  the  ships  of  Boston,  after 
the  wars  had  ceased,  began  to  visit  these  shores  again,  for 
hides  and  tallow,  such  quantities  of  these  articles  had  accu- 
mulated, that  the  single  Mission  of  San  Gabriel  purchased 
several  successive  cargoes  of  cloths  and  groceries,  at  about  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars  each,  and  paid  for  them  in  hides 
and  tallow.  This  Mission  at  that  time  possessed  over  one 
hundred  thousand  head  of  neat  cattle,  and  great  numbers  of 
horses  and  sheep.  The  vineyards  produced  between  two  and 
three  hundred  barrels  of  brandy  annually,  and  wine  enough 
for  the  consumption  of  the  Mission,  and  for  the  purposes  of 
the  unbounded  hospitality  which  then  pervaded  those  estab- 
lishment's. 

"  The  Indian  population  of  the  Mission  at  that  period  was 
three  or  four  thousands.  At  present  it  is  from  one  to  two 
hundreds,  and  the  flocks  and  herds  are  hardly  sufficient  to 
support  them.  The  same  remark  will  apply,  with  little  vari- 
ation, to  all  the  Missions  of  the  Californias.  They  are  mere 
skeletons  of  what  they  formerly  were.  San  Josef  is  the  only 
exception.  This  still  has  a  population  of  about  fourteen  hun- 
dred souls,  twenty-five  thousands  of  black  cattle,  nearly  the 
same  number  of  sheep,  and  considerable  bands  of  horses, 
mules,  &c." 

The  Doctor  further  remarks :  "  These  Missions  were  the 
first  establishments  of  the  Spaniards  on  this  coast.  Those  in 
Upper  California  were  begun  in  1776  by  the  Franciscan 
Missionaries,  assisted  by  a  few  troops  sent  by  the  Viceroy  of 
Mexico.  After  some  progress  had  been  made  in  taming  and 
teaching  the  native  savage  population,  mechanics  and  artisans 
were  sent  to  assist  in  rearing  those  noble  structures  which  are 
now  seen  on  most  of  the  Mission  premises.  Awhile  after- 
wards two  companies  of  young  married  men,  with  their  fami- 


n 


jtfU 


ri 


:•%.* 


lie 


s,  were  sent  up 


from  Senora,  who  performed  the  double 


346 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACiriC. 


duty  of  soldiers  for  the  protcf  Jon  of  the  Missionaries,  and  the 
founders  of  a  new  colony.  The  first  missionaries  were  men 
of  great  piety,  benevolence,  patience,  and  perseverance.  It 
cannot  fail  to  excite  the  wonder  of  any  one  at  all  acquainted 
with  the  indolence  and  fickleness  of  the  Californian  Indians, 
to  behold  the  immense  amount  of  labor,  agricultural  and  me- 
chanical, which  has  been  performed  by  them  under  the  mild 
and  paternal  government  of  those  monks.  Every  mission  was 
a  thriving  and  happy  community  until  the  Mexican  Revolu- 
tion drove  the  Padres  from  the  country,  and  commenced  that 
work  of  ruin  which  has  laid  them  in  the  dust." 

While  the  Missions  were  being  destroyed  in  the  manner 
shown  on  previous  pages,  the  plantations  of  individuals  some- 
what increased  in  number  and  extent.  So  that,  although  the 
number  of  domestic  animals  and  the  agricultural  wealth, 
generally,  was  greatly  reduced  by  the  destruction  of  the  Mis- 
sions, there  is  now  believed  to  be  in  the  country  about 
1,000,000  black  cattle,  500,000  horses,  420,000  sheep,  3000 
mules,  3000  goats,  and  2000  swine. 

These  animals  roam  on  the  unfenced  plains  and  hills,  and 
are  never  an  object  of  care  to  the  owners,  except  when  they 
desire  to  brand,  butcher,  or  sell  them.  The  swine  are  seldom 
used  for  any  other  purpose  than  for  making  lard  and  soap. 
The  sheep  are  raised  for  the  wool  only  ;  the  goats  are  used 
for  milk  ;  the  mules  for  draught ;  the  horses  for  riding  only ; 
but  those  required  for  such  purposes  form  a  very  small  pro- 
portion of  the  whole  number  reared.  Immense  herds  of  these 
animals  live  in  a  wild  state  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  settle- 
ments, and  often  become  so  numerous  as  to  render  it  neces- 
sary to  destroy  them  in  great  numbers  in  order  to  preserve  the 
grass  for  the  cattle.  I  was  credibly  .informed  that  fifteen 
thousand  of  these  noble  animals  perished  thus  in  one  year,  on 
a  single  hacienda. 

The  mode  of  making  legal  title  to  animals  in  the  Califor- 
nias  may  not  be  uninteresting.  I  will  give  the  reader  a  short 
account  of  it  furnished  me  by  ray  excellent  friend.  Dr.  Lyman. 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


347 


"  Early  in  the  autumn,  a  rodea  is  appointed  by  the  rancheros 
(farmers),  to  unite  in  collecting  their  cattle  together  for  the 
purpose  of  deciding  to  whom  they  belong.      At  this  meeting, 
all  the  cattle  of  the  settlement  are  gathered  into  immense 
carols  or  pens,  and  the  ears  of  each  cow  having  been  marked 
by  a  peculiar  cut,  called  senalj  ownership  of  the  calf  follow- 
ing her,  is  easily  made  apparent,  by  placing  a  similar  sencU 
on  its  ear.    It  is  not  considered  safe  to  brand  the  calf  with  a 
hot  iron  till  it  is  a  year  old,  and  the  reason  of  putting  on  the 
senalf  is  that  the  owner  may  know  his  calf  in  rttKe  it  is 
weaned  before  it  is  a  year  old.    In  the  spring,  yearling  calves 
are  collected  by  an  appointed  rodea  of  cattle.      The  owners 
of  the  calves  recognizing  them  by  the  senaly  separate  them, 
and  brand  with  a  hot  iron  the  owner's  hicrro,  or  legal  mark, 
on  the  hip.      Every  stock-breeder  has  three  marks  for  his 
cattle,  each  of  which  must  be  recorded  at  the  Alcalde's 
office,  and  a  fac-simile  of  it  placed  on  the  books,  which  ren- 
ders it  legal.     No  two  persons  can  have  the  same  marks. 
Forging  of  the  mark  is  severely  punished.   Afterwards,  when- 
ever a  sale  is  made  of  either  a  live  animal  or  a  hide,  it  is  not 
legal  unless  the  owner  brands  the  animal  or  hide  on  the 
shoulder,  with  a  smaller  iron  than  the  hierro,  which  is  called 
the  *  ventaf*  indicating  sale.      If  a  person  buys  an  animal  or 
hide    without  having    it  first   branded  with    the    'venta/ 
the  former  owner,  if  inclined  to  be  rascally,  can  reclaim  his 
property." 


I  ■ 

•■I 


m 


•t. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Los  Presidios. — Los  Missionfis. — Los  Pueblos.— Harbors. — Inhabit- 
ants.— Meztizos. — Whites. 

The  Presidios  of  the  Californias  are  fortresses  occupied  by 
a  few  troops  under  the  command  of  a  military  prefect.  These 
posts  were  originally  established  for  several  purposes  j  one 
was,  the  national  occupancy  of  the  country ;  another,  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Missions  against  the  insurrections  of  the  Indians 
gathered  in  them,  and  the  incursions  of  the  wild  tribes  on 
their  borders ;  and  still  another  was,  to  serve  as  receptacles 
for  the  royal  revenue  which  was  expected  to  arise  from  the 
Mission  plantations,  and  the  pearl  fisheries.  In  early  times, 
the  commandants  of  these  Presidios  were  under  the  absolute 
control  of  the  Padres.  The  Padre  President,  or  bishop  of 
each  of  these  provinces,  was  the  civil,  lilitary,  and  religious 
prefect,  the  supreme  governor  of  the  people  in  his  bishopric. 
The  commandant  of  each  Presidio  was  therefore  uncondition- 
ally subject  to  his  orders ;  and  the  Padres  of  each  Mission 
constituted  a  council  of  Government,  subordinate  to  the  Padre 
President,  over  the  Indians  and  other  persons  connected  with 
the  particular  station  to  which  they  belonged,  whether  they 
resided  at  the  Mission  or  in  towns,  within  its  assigned  juris- 
diction. In  the  progress  of  time,  four  of  these  posts  were 
established  in  Upper  California ;  El  Presidio  San  Diego,  situ- 
ate on  the  coast  in  Latitude  32^  N.,  having  under  its  protec- 
tion the  Missions  of  San  Diego,  San  Louis  Rey,  San  Juan 
Capistrano,  and  San  Gabriel ;  and  the  Presidio  Santa  Bar- 
bara, situate  on  the  Canal  de  Santa  Barbara,  Latitude  36°  35 
N.,  having  within  its  jurisdiction  the  Missions  Santa  Barbara, 
San  Fernando,  San  Buenaventura,  Santa  Inez,  and  La  Puris- 
sima,  and  the  town  of  El  Puebla  de  los  Angelos ;  the  Presidio 


!1 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


349 


of  Monterey,  situate  on  Monterey  Bay,  Latitude  36^^  N.,  em- 
bracing the  Missions,  San  Louis  Obispo,  San  Miguel,  San 
Antonio,  Nuestra  Senora  de  la  Solidad,  San  Carlos,  San  Juan 
Bautista,  the  Fueblo  of  Monterey,  and  the  vUla  of  Brauci forte  j 
the  Presidio  de  San  Francisco,  situate  on  the  San  F  ancisco 
Bay,  Latitude  37°  N.,  having  under  its  jurisdiction  the  Mis 
sions  Santa  Cruz,  San  JosC*,  Santa  Clara,  San  Francisco,  San 
Rafael,  San  Francisco  Solana,  and  the  Pueblos,  Yerba  Buena 
and  San  Jose  de  Guadelupe. 

The  structures  of  these  Presidios  consist  of  walls  of  imburnt 
brick,  twelve  feet  in  height,  enclosing  an  area  of  about  one 
thousand  square  yards,  within  which  are  the  house  of  the 
Commandantej  and  the  barracks  of  the  troops. 

At  a  short  distance  from  the  Presidios  are  what  are  called 
castillosy  the  forts,  where  the  cannon,  powder-house,  &c.,  are 
situated. 

Within  four  or  five  leagues  of  the  Presidios  are  certain 
farms  called  ranchios,  which  were  assigned  for  the  use  of  the 
garrisons,  and  as  depositories  of  the  cattle  and  grain  which 
the  crown  was  expecting  to  receive,  as  taxes  from  the  Missions- 
Each  of  these  Missions  had  allotted  to  it  by  the  old  Spanish 
Government  fifteen  square  miles  of  ground  ;  and  the  priests 
having  the  right  of  choosing  the  sites,  selected  the  very  best 
soil,  and  in  other  respects  the  finest  locations  in  the  country. 
On  these  have  been  erected*  buildings  of  various  plans  and 
sizes,  according  to  the  taste  of  the  priests  and  the  number  of 
Indians  to  be  accommodated.  Some  are  built  around  a  square ; 
the  buildings  themselves  forming  an  enclosing  wall  on  three 
sides,  and  a  wall  and  gateway  supplying  the  other  side  :  the 
church,  the  priest's  house,  and  Indian  dwellings,  workshops, 
granaries,  and  prisons,  all  fronting  upon  the  enclosed  area. 
Others  are  surrounded  by  a  high  wall ;  others  are  built  on 
the  open  plain,  the  church  in  the  centre,  and  the  Indian  huts 
leading  off  from  it  in  rows,  forming  streets.  And  still  others 
have  the  church,  the  granaries,  magazines,  jail,  &c.,  enclosed 
30 


m 


350 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIVIC. 


with  a  wall,  while  the  huts  of  the  Indians  stand  unprotected 
outside. 

They  are  generally  constructed  of  large  unburnt  bricks, 
and  roofed  with  tiles.  Some  of  the  churches  and  priests' 
houses  arc  of  stone  j  and  being  whitewashed  by  way  of  pre- 
eminence among  the  Indian  dwellings,  make  an  imposing 
appearance  upon  the  lofly  hills,  on  the  borders  of  the  sea,  or 
the  rich  spreading  plains  among  the  green  highlands. 

Each  of  the  establishments  is  designed  to  have  two  priests. 
This  intention,  however,  is  not  always  carried  out.  More 
commonly  one  priest,  with  his  raajor-<lomo,  and  several  sub- 
ordinate officers  to  overlook  the  labor  of  the  Indians,  consti- 
tute the  official  court  of  a  Mission. 

The  married  Indians,  and  the  officers  and  priests  of  the 
Missions,  occupy  houses.  The  unmarried  Indians  of  all  ages 
are  put  into  large  rooms  at  night,  which  are  well  grated  and 
locked,  to  prevent  them  from  escaping  to  the  wilderness  and 
their  former  habits  of  life.  The  unmarried  females  and  males 
thus  imprisoned  in  their  separate  apartments  at  night,  and 
kept  separate  at  their  duties  during  the  day,  never  associate 
much  together  until  they  are  married.  This  is  deemed  neces- 
sary to  preserve  their  virtue. 

The  churches  of  these  missions  are  well  supplied  with  the 
paraphernalia  of  the  Roman  Catholic  worship,  the  altar,  the 
receptacle  of  the  host,  the  center,  the  cross,  the  images  of 
the  Saviour  and  the  Saints,  pictures  of  Paradise  and  Hell. 
These,  the  costly  dresses  of  the  priests,  and  the  imposing 
processions  and  ceremonies  of  the  church,  were  well  calcu- 
lated to  arrest  the  attention  of  those  most  stupid  of  all  the 
North  American  Indians ;  and  give  them  their  first  impulses 
toward  the  paths  of  moral  virtue. 

The  religious  exercises  of  the  Missions  are  those  common  to 
Catholic  churches  throughout  the  world.  Morning  and  evening 
Mass ;  the  commemoration  of  the  Patron  Saints;  High  Mass 
on  extraordinary  occasions ;  religious  processions  on  Corpus 
ChrLsti  and  other  great  festal  occasions ;  at  which  times  the 


he 


TRAVELS      IIV      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


351 


Iressod 


skirts 


scarlet 

bodices,  or  other  colons  suitable  to  the  occasion.  Every  In- 
dian, male  and  female,  is  obliged  to  attend  the  worship  ;  and 
if  they  lag  behind,  a  large  Icaihern  thong,  at  the  end  cf  a 
heavy  whip-stafl',  is  applied  to  their  naked  backs,  that  the 
pain  of  disobedience  may  be  contrasted  with  the  pleasures  of 
the  opposite  course. 

In  church,  the  males  and  females  occupy  different  sides, 
>vith  a  broad  aisle  between  them.  In  this  aisle  are  stationed 
men  with  whips  and  goads  to  enforce  order  and  silence,  and 
keep  them  in  a  kneeling  posture.  By  this  arrangement,  the 
untamed  and  vicious  are  generally  made  willing  to  comply 
with  the  forms  of  the  service.  In  addition  to  these  restraints, 
a  guard  of  soldiers  with  Hxed  bayonets  occupies  one  end  of 
the  church,  who  may  suppress  by  their  more  powerful  wea- 
pons any  strong  demonstrations  against  this  comfortable  mode 
of  worshipping  God.  The  choirs  of  the  churches  are  composed 
of  Indians,  who  perform  quite  well  upon  various  kinds  of 
instruments,  and  chant  with  considerable  musical  accuracy 
It  is  due  to  the  Padres  to  say,  that  they  devote  nearly  all  their 
time  to  the  good  of  the  converts ;  and,  bating  the  objections 
which  we  have  to  the  manner  of  conversion,  and  of  sustaining 
them  in  the  way  of  grace,  no  fault  can  be  found  with  them. 
They  treat  them  like  children,  and  appear  to  have  a  sincere 
concern  that  they  should  live  and  die  in  the  arms  of  that 
faith,  which  they  believe  to  be  the  only  guide  of  the  soul  in 
its  way  to  Heaven. 

Los  Pueblos,  &c. — Los  Pueblos,  or  villages,  are  small 
towns  which  ^re w  up  near  the  Missions.  Their  first  inhabitants 
consisted  of  Spanish  emigrants  from  different  parts  of  Mexico. 
But  to  these  were  afterwards  added  such  soldiers  of  the  Pre- 
sidios as  obtained  permission  from  the  King  of  Spain  to  retire 
from  the  service  and  marry  Indian  women.  Those  in  Upper 
California  which  had  this  origin  are  Pueblo  de  los  Angelos,  in 
Latitude  34°  10'  N.,  and  Pueblo  de  San  Jose  de  Guadeloupe,  in 
Latitude  36^  50'  N.  In  later  times  another  has  been  established 


];< 

wW 

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P 

if" 

^li 

i|: 

Pi 

i'i 

1f^^ 

■  ■  ;>; 

rX^-\ 

"         r.'S 

m 

353 


3CENF.  S      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


by  American  emigrants  on  the  Bay  uf  San  Francisco  called 
Yerba  Bueno,  and  another  on  the  waters  of  the  Sacramento, 
by  a  owiss  gentleman  named  Sutcr. 

The  Villas  are  towns  of  somewhat  less  dignity  than  the 
Pueblos.  The  principal  of  these  is  situated  on  ihe  north  side 
of  Monterey  Bay,  near  the  Mission  Santa  Cruz.  It  is  called 
Branciforte.  There  are  several  others  growing  up  in  various 
parts  of  the  country,  which  are  yet  too  small  and  unimportant 
to  be  noticed. 

Harbors. — The  seaward  coast  of  the  Californias,  extending 
through  twenty  degrees  of  Latitude,  has  only  two  good  harbors. 
There  arp  indeed  very  many  roadsteads  and  bays.,  where  vessels 
anchor  with  considerable  safety,  and  iake  in  and  di.^charge 
cargoes ;  but  they  are  all  exposed  to  some  of  the  prevailing 
winds.  The  only  well-protected  harbor  is  San  Diego,  lying 
in  Latitude  33°  17'  N.  This  is  land-locked — without  surf, 
with  a  smooth  hard  sand  beach,  and  free  from  rocks  and 
stones.  But  it  is  much  less  in  extent — and  far  less  valuable 
to  commerce  than  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 

The  Bay  of  San  Francisco  is  the  glory  of  the  Western 
world.  Its  mouth  lies  in  Latitude  37"  58'.  The  water  on 
the  bar  is  eight  ifathoms  at  low  tide.  The  mountains  on 
either  hand  rise  several  hundred  feet  above  tl.e  sea,  and  form 
fine  land-mp.rks  in  foggy  weather  to  point  out  the  bar,  and 
the  channel  into  the  harbor.  The  capes  at  the  ocean's  edge 
are  about  two  miles  apart ;  always  verdant  and  refreshing  to 
the  eye ;  and,  as  you  go  up  the  passage,  the  little  strif^ams 
tutabling  from  the  rocks  among  the  greenwood,  and  the  wild 
game,  standing  out  on  the  clifl^i,  or  frohcking  among  the 
brush,  and  the  seal  barking  in  the  water,  give  promise  of 
pleasure  and  rest  from  the  toils  of  the  sea. 

This  passage  is  about  five  milfs  in  icnolli.  Four  and  a 
half  miles  from  the  ceipes  it  narrows  considerably,  and  pre- 
sents a  bold  point  north  and  south.  On  the  smthern  one 
stands  the  Presido  or  fort,  on  which  this  mi^rhty  harbor  con- 
descends to  depend  for  protection.    The  fort  is  in  tu'im,    A 


f- 


TRAVELS      IN       THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


353 


dozen  old  rusty  guns  in  the  care  of  thirty  or  forty  half-clad 
half-breed  solilicrs,  usually  foraging  in  squads  of  five  or  ten 
among  the  neighboring  Missions  ;  one  side  of  its  walls  tum- 
bled down,  and  another  strongly  disposed  to  plfnge  into  the 
sea,  and  not  the  tenth  of  a  true  soliiicr's  heart  beating  for  a 
hundred  miles  around,  is  a  true  summing  up  of  its  present 
strength. 

The  house  of  the  commandant,  situated  in  one  corner,  is 
a  respectable  whitewashed  pile  of  mud  and  bricks.  On  the 
other  corner  of  the  same  side  is  the  chapel,  also  built  of  mud : 
a  fdthy  place  for  Avorship.  On  another  side  are  artificers' 
shops  and  a  prison.  The  two  other  sides  are  broken  down, 
not  by  the  flying  metal  of  brave  conflict,  but  by  the  gentle 
pattering  of  the  rains;  the  ruins  co nod  with  bones!  not  the 
bones  of  fearless  men,  who  have  fallen  in  the  brench,  throw- 
ing their  gushing  blooti  in  the  face  of  a  conquering  foe  ;  but 
the  bones  of  beeves  that  have  been  gnawed  by  the  garrison 
during  years  of  valorous  eating,  Densely  manned,  also,  are 
these  piles  of  adobie  and  osseous  ruins,  not  with  rank  and  fde 
of  mailed  warriors,  but  with  ihirs,  vultures,  and  jackals. 
This  is  Fort  San  Francisco,  one  of  the  strongest  posts  in  ihc 
Calilbrnias.  Heaven  help  its"  dogs,  vultures,  and  jackals,  in 
case  of  a  siege  ! 

Six  miles  from  the  capes  at  the  mouth,  and  at  the  point 
where  it  begins  to  open  into  the  Hay,  are  two  small  islands 
on  which  forts  might  be  convi  iiiently  built,  that  would  com- 
mand the  narrows,  and  also  the  entra>ice  iato  both  the  north 
and  soulh  parts  of  the  bay.  Indeed,  ihe  whole  bay  is  go 
studded  with  islands  easily  fi)rtifird,  and  so  overhung  by 
headlands,  which  of  themselves  are  fortresses,  that  a  party  in 
possession  of  them  could  h(dd  the  lliy  against  vast  odds,  and 
in  compaiative  security.  From  the  narrows  to  the  northern 
point  of  the  Day  is  twenty-four  miles,  and  to  the  south-east- 
ern point  thirty-five  nii!e>. 

The  southern  half  of  the  l>ay  varies  from  fourteen  to  fifteen, 
the  nortliern  half  troiu  four  to  twenty  miles  in  width.  In 
30* 


H 


I 


-ri 


,'f:  ! 


354 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


every  part  of  this  large  tract  of  water  is  good  holding  ground, 
and  on  all  its  shores  are  coves  in  which  vessels  of  any  tonnage 
may  lie  snug  and  secure  from  storms,  within  a  cable's  length 
of  the  land.     In  the  NW.  corner  of  the  Bay  is  the  inlet  of 
the  Rio  Sacramento.     It  is  about  one  and  three-fourth  miles 
wide  for  the  distance  of  seven  miles,  and  ihen  spreads  out 
into  a  bay  seven  miles  wide,  and  twelve  in  length,  when  it 
narrows  down  to  four  miles  for  the  distance  of  two  miles 
and  a  half,  then  widens  to  seven  or  eight  miles  the  distance 
of  eleven  miles,  with  islands  in  the  centre,  then  narrows  to 
four  miles  for  the  distance  of  three  miles,  and  then  it  widens 
into  a  bay  about  twenty  miles  north  and  south,  and  about  the 
same   distance  east  and   west,  studded  with    nine    islands. 
On  the  east  of  it,  between  the  mouth  of  the  Sacramento 
and  the  Bay,  lies  one  about  liftcen  miles  in  length,  NE.  and 
SW. ;  and  of  a  breadth  varying  from  three  miles  to  ten. 
All  these  islands  are  low  and  marshy.     On  the  southern  point 
of  this  large  island  comes  in  the  Rio  San  Joaquim,  .ind  on 
tlic  northern  point  of  it  is  the  northern  mouth  of  the  Sacra- 
mento. 

On  the  south  side  of  the  promontory  on  which  stands  the 
fort,  Castillo  de  San  Francisco,  is  a  little  village  called  Yerba 
Bueno.  As  the  harbor  in  which  foreign  vessels  refit  and  pur- 
chase supplies  lies  in  front  of  Yerba  Bueno,  it  will  scarcely 
be  imparting  any  fact  not  legitimately  inferable  from  their 
known  character,  to  say  that  the  Yankees  have  built  and 
inhabit  this  town.  These  descendants  of  the  lungs  and  nobles 
of  the  old  Saxon  Heptarchy,  knighled  and  ennobled  anew  by 
the  physical  and  mental  con(iuests  over  the  wilderness  of 
America  and  over  the  oppressions  of  their  Norman  conquerors, 
the  reigning  families  and  nobles  of  Great  Britain,  have  built 
up  an  empire  of  mind  on  which  the  sun  never  sets.  In  the 
Bay  of  San  Francisco  is  Yerba  Bueno.  In  the  Sandwich 
Islands  a  nation  is  spoken  into  being.  The  Chinese  seas  are 
burdened  with  its  ships.  On  the  coast  of  Africa  the  emanci- 
pated slave  un<\nl3  the  banner  of  Freedom  over  the  fortunes 


T  R  A  V  E  I.  &       IN       THE       C  A  M  F  0  R  N  I  A  S. 


355 


of  an  independent  national  existence,  and  almost  the  entire 
habitable  parts  of  tliis  great  continent  are  feelinf^  and  enjoy- 
ing the  impulses  to  human  Freedom  which  the  American 
Saxons  sent  out  to  the  race  on  the  'l-'ourth  of  July,  1776. 
These  Yankees  at  Yerba  Bueno  employ  themse'ves  in  their 
characteristic  business  of  jloing  everything. 

The  surpassing  beauty  and  magnificence  of  this  harbor  of 
San  Francisco  can  never  be  properly  estimated  by  being 
viewed  from  th  'and.  One  must  app'^oach  it  from  the  sea  ; 
have  a  full  vie  the  lofty  shores  north  and  south,  rising 

at  intervals  into  lo.  y  ppaks  girded  at  their  bases  with  prime- 
val forests  of  evergreen  cedars  and  pines  mottled  with  the 
boughs  of  the  oak,  the  ash,  and  the  plane.  The  bar  which 
springs  from  the  northern  headlands  of  its  entrance,  and,  run- 
ning beneath  the  blue  waters  of  the  Pacific  from  five  to  nine 
fathoms,  causes  a  belt  of  surf  to  roll  across  the  mouth,  must 
be  passed.  A  breeze  must  bear  your  bark  over  and  along 
the  dangerous  rocks  three  quarters  of  a  mile  inside  on  the 
right,  quarrelling  with  the  surges;  and  onward  four  miles 
between  the  projecting  clifls,  overhanging  peaks  and  verdant 
woodlands  filled  with  starting  deer  and  other  game,  to  the 
harbor  at  the  narrows  beneath  the  fort ;  and  thence  onv^ard 
still  past  the  fort  and  the  islands  lying  across  the  entrance  ; 
and  the  Bay  is  seen  !  a  broad  sheet  of  watt i'  stretching  oflj 
north  and  south,  the  largest  and  best  harbor  of  the  earth,  sui'^ 
roun<led  by  a  country,  partly  wooded,  and  partly  disposed 
in  open  gla«les  and  prairies  of  the  richest  kind,  covered 
with  the  flocks  and  herds  of  the  Missions,  and  deer,  and  elk, 
and  bears.  And  amid  tlio  bcautitul  hills  of  the  souu.  .nd  east 
wk:  Santa  Clara,  El  Pueblo  San  Jose,  and  Mission  San  Jose  ; 
and  on  the  southern  peninsula,  five  miles  widr,  is  San  Fran- 
cisco, Yerba  Bueno,  the  ti  ading-house  of  the  Hudson  Bay 
Fur  Company,  the  Presidio  and  the  Castillo ;  on  the  north- 
ern peninsula  is  San  Rafael,  and  in  the  north  San  Francisco 
Solano ;  a  group  of  beauty  and  grandeur,  that  knows  no 
superior  in  any  clime. 


■i 


■'ii' 


-SI 


4 


y 

;•■■-. 


356 


SCENES      IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


White  Inhabitants. — The  policy  of  the  Catholic  priest.v 
who  conquered  these  countries,  and  who  held  altsolute  sway 
over  their  destinies  until  the  Mexican  Revolutiun,  was  to  dis- 
courage settlements.  The  reasons  for  this  course  on  their 
part  were,  that  the  Indians  could  be  more  easily  controlled 
by  them,  in  the  absence  of  other  persons  claiming  larger  free- 
dom than  they  themselves  were  then  fitted  to  enjoy.  In  order 
to  carry  out  these  views,  therefore,  they  used  all  their  influ- 
ence with  the  Vice-regal  Government  of  Mexico  to  prevent 
emigration  thither,  and  were  ever  watchful  to  enforce  upon 
the  soldiers  of  the  Missions  that  law  of  Spain  which  prohibits 
them  to  marry  without  the  express  consent  of  the  crown. 

And  hence  it  is  that  from  17G9  to  1813  only  six  free  vil- 
lages or  towns  have  been  founded  in  the  Californias.  And 
the  free  white  and  half-breed  inhabitants  of  these  extensive 
territories  number  at  this  day  less  than  six  thousand. 

Their  character  is  quite  peculiar.  The  half-breed,  as  might 
be  expected,  exhibits  much  of  the  Indian  character ;  the  dul! 
suspicious  countenance,  the  small  twinhling  piercing  eye,  the 
laziness  and  filth  of  a  free  brute,  using  freedom  as  the  mere 
means  of  animal  enjoyment.  This  class  of  Californians  usu- 
ally compose  the  soldiery  of  the  Presidios,  and  the  herdsmen 
of  the  Ranches  or  plantations,  and  in  these  capacities  perhaps 
perform  their  duties  as  well  as  their  white  relatives  do  theirs. 
However,  it  should  here  be  stated  that  as  soldiers  it  makes  no 
kind  of  difference  in  the  exhibition  of  their  bravery,  whether 
their  guns  have  either  lock,  stock,  or  barrel ;  for  never,  in  a 
single  instance,  since  the  country  was  settled,  have  the  Cali- 
fornian  troops  been  so  wanting  in  courage  as  to  fire  at  an 
enemy^  unless  he  were  in  a  helpless  condition,  nor  so  wanting 
in  discretion  as  to  wait  to  be  fired  at,  when  there  was  a 
chance  to  run  away  in  safety. 

The  intelligence  of  these  meztizos,  as  they  are  called,  is 
quite  limited ;  and  wrhat  little  they  do  possess,  is  of  very 
doubtful  utility.  For  it  seems  to  be  used  chiefly  in  directing 
their  choice  of  shade  trees,  under  which  they  shall  spend  the 


TRAVELS      IN 


HE       CALIFORNIA  S. 


357 


day  in  sloth,  or  in  stealing  a  bullock's  hide  on  which  to  throw 
their  lazy  carcasses  at  night.  Their  dress,  when  they  chance 
to  have  any,  is  composed  of  neat's  hide  tanned  and  stamped 
like  certain  species  of  saddle-leather.  This  is  made  into  short 
roundabouts,  which  are  buttoned  up  tightly  in  front.  Of  the 
same  material  they  make  loose  pantaloons,  leaving  the  outer 
seam  open  to  the  knee,  and  at  intervals  higher  up,  for  the 
purpose,  as  it  seemed,  from  what  I  daily  saw,  of  enabling 
thera  with  greater  facility  to  kill  their  fleas  and  lice.  On 
their  feet  they  wear  sandals  of  raw  bull's  hide  ;  their  heads 
are  generally  without  any  other  covering  than  their  long  dark 
hair,  usually  in  anything  but  a  cleanly  condition.  In  some 
instances,  however,  they  don  an  ancient  sombrero,  long  a;^o 
worn  out  in  the  service  of  some  ragged  cavallero.  Ihese 
people  generally  speak  both  the  Indian  and  Spanish  tongues, 
and  are  equally  familiar  with  the  ignorance  accompanying 
the  one,  and  the  arrogance  and  self-conceit  inherent  in  the 
other. 

A  jolly  set  of  people  are  these  mcztizos,  when  found  awake 
with  a  little  brandy  in  their  heads.  Tlie  elasticity  of  their 
importance  is  then  a  vcs>  perceptible  trait  in  their  notions  of 
themselves.  I  have  but  to  imagine  myself  under  the  large 
tree  near  the  Bay  of  Monterey,  among  a  group  of  Ihem  which 
I  once  met  there,  in  order  to  give  the  reader  a  peep  at  them. 
It  is  a  fine  day  in  April,  the  flowers  cover  the  ground;  and  the 
leaves  of  the  trees  on  the  hills  are  large  enoi.gh  to  make  the 
forests  green ;  the  swells  of  the  Pacific  are  breaking  on  the 
shore  hard  by,  and  a  half-dozcn  mcztizos  are  dancing 
and  vomiting  as  occasion  or  inclination  appears  to  re(|uire. 
Look  at  Ihem ;  when  it  chances  to  be  possible  to  retain  any- 
thing in  their  mouths  long  enough  (o  afford  a  traitsit  to  the 
interior,  the  native  brandy  from  the  Missions  is  whispering 
f»nd  babbling  its  way  over  the  palate  and  downward ;  a  gur- 
gling stream  full  of  Lethe,  hiccoughs,  and  other  precious 
couimodlties  that  anon  reappear. 

They  talk  and  sing  ot  their  parentage ;  the  one  is  proud 


I 


t 


-i*'.'- 

JK 


358 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


thai  his  father  was  an  Indian  of  immense  form,  who  lived  on 
the  head-waters  of  the  San  Joaquim,  whose  head  brushed  the 
boughs  of  the  loftiest  cedars,  and  whose  arrows  were  often 
dulled  against  the  brazen  sides  of  the  sun.  Another  plumes 
himself  upon  his  Spanish  blood.  His  great  grandsire  was  a 
boatswain  on  board  of  some  Spanish  brig,  the  keel  of  which 
broke  the  Pacific  waves  when  the  white  man  brought  the 
holy  cross  and  tobacco  seed  into  the  Californias.  Right 
merry  fellows  these,  and  whether  drunk  or  sober,  show  a 
degree  of  consideration  for  their  noble  selves  which  would 
appear  entirely  marvellous  and  extraordinary  in  any  countr}' 
not  inhabited  by  the  successors  of  the  worthy  and  knightly 
Quixote,  Sancho,  and  Rosinante. 

That  part  of  the  population  which  by  courtesy  are  called 
white,  are  the  descendants  of  the  free  settlers  from  Mexico 
and  the  soldiers  of  the  garrisons  and  Missions,  who  were  per- 
mitted by  his  most  Catholic  Majesty  to  take  wives.  Their 
complexion  is  a  light  clear  bronze ;  not  white,  as  they  them- 
selves quite  erroneously  imagine;  and,  withal,  not  a  very 
seemly  color ;  not  remarkably  pure  in  any  way ;  a  lazy  color  ; 
and  for  that  reason,  rather  out  of  place,  associated  as  it  is, 
with  large  dark  flashing  eyes,  a  finely  chiselled  Roman  nose, 
and  teeth  as  clear  and  sound  as  pearl.  Looking  at  the  mere 
exterior  of  these  men,  the  observer  would  most  probably  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  they  were  somewhat  humanized.  The 
speaking  gait,  the  bland  gesture  ot  complaisant  regard,  the 
smile,  that  ray  of  the  soul,  all  seem  civilized — truly  Castilian. 
The  wide-brimmed  and  conical  crowned  sombrero  also,  with 
its  rope-like  silver  cord  band,  well  be-tasselled,  shoes  and 
shoe-bucklcs,  pantaloons  well  openec!  at  the  side  senms, 
showing  the  snow-white  flaunting  drawers,  the  snugly-fitted 
roundabout,  with  its  spherical  silver  buttons,  and  the  largely 
proportioned  vest,  swinging  loosely  to  the  wind,  the  keen 
Spanish  knife  sitting  snugly  in  its  sheath  along  the  calf  of 
the  leg,  all  would  indii  ate  to  the  sojourner  of  a  day  among 
them,  that  these  Castiliano*  Californios  were  accustomed  to 


■  ? 


TRAVELS      IW      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


359 


be  men  fulfilling  some  of  the  important  ends  of  existence,  in 
a  worthy  and  gentlemanly  way.     And  so  they  do,  as  under- 
stood in  the  Californias.     They  rise  in  the  morning,  that  is  to 
s^y,  before  noon-day,  from  their  couches  of  blankets  or  bulls' 
hides,  and  breakfast  upon  broiled  or  boiled  beef  and  fried 
beans.     After  breakfast,  they  muster  a  tinder-box  from  the 
pocket,  strike  fire,  light  cigars  made  of  tobacco  rolled  up  in 
little  slips  of  paper,  till  the  ignited  weed  burns  and  discolors 
their  thumb  and  fore-finger  aristocratically,  and  then  betake 
themselves  to  their  napping  again.     Thus  stands  or  lies  their 
humanity  till  the  dinner  hour.     Roast  hcef,  /rijoles,  and  cho- 
colate, brandy  and  wine,  if,  indeed,  Senor  Poverty  own  a 
corkscrew  and  its  appendages,  make  up  the  matCriel  of  this 
event.      And   having   eaten    and   drunken  liberally,   Senor 
crosses  himself  reverently  over  his  [;;astric  apparatus,  lays  him- 
self carefully  upon  his  couch,  and  gives  himself  and  his  diges- 
tion to  his  guitar,  till  chocolate  comes  at  sun-set,  to  bedew 
his  inner  man  for  the  sbjmbers  of  the  night.     Thus  wc  have  a 
glance  at  los  homhrcs  Califoniios. 

Whenever  want  or  a  revulsion  of  nature  long  unused,  drives 
these  people  to  corporeal  exercise,  they,  true  to  their  laziness, 
make  the  horse  perform  the  greater  part  of  it.  Indeed,  a 
Californian  is  never  the  half  of  himself  unless  he  be  on  horse- 
back. And  to  go  abroad  for  any  purpose  without  a  saddle 
under  him  would,  in  his  opinion,  be  as  ritiiculous  as  to  break- 
fast without  beans,  or  be  a  Christian  without  praying  to  the 
Saints.  They  are  excellent  horsemen  ;  the  very  best  in  North 
America  ;  and,  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  the  best  on  the  con- 
tinent. Be  this  opinion  right  or  wrong,  it  will  be  interesting 
to  know  them  as  they  are.  I  will  present  the  horse  part 
first,  as  the  most  interesting  portion  of  a  Californian  cavallero. 
There  is  no  better  animal  than  the  Californian  cavallo.  He 
presents  all  colors — from  black  to  white,  dappled,  mixed  and 
shviffled  together  in  the  most  beautiful  confusion.  His  head 
and  neck  are  lightly  made — his  eye  burns  with  that  kindly 
yet  unquenchable  fire  so  peculiar  to  his  progenitors,  the  An- 


;  f    ... 

'       V* 


•I  ' 

y 


i'k' 


f  1 


91  «v 

fit 


fl: 


360 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC, 


(lalusian  Arabian  steeds.  His  chest  is  broad  and  full,  his  loins 
well  knit,  and  closely  laid  to  the  ribs,  his  limbs  clean,  slen- 
der, and  sinewy  ;  the  embodiment  of  the  matchless  wild  horse 
of  a  tureen  and  sunny  wilderness.  His  gear  is  peculiar.  The 
bridle  is  anything  but  a  time-serving  check  upon  his  pro- 
pensities. Its  demands  are  thoroughly  peremptory,  as  will  be 
seen  by  a  little  attention  to  its  construction.  It  has  a  bit 
without  a  joint,  so  doubled,  as  to  extend  four  or  five  inches 
back  into  the  mouth,  and  instt  ad  of  a  curb,  a  solid  iron  ring 
passes  through  the  upper  part  of  the  curved  bit,  and  around 
the  lower  jaw ;  so  that  when  the  rein  is  drawn,  the  doubled 
portion  of  the  bit  prying  open  the  mouth,  the  iron  ring  acts 
with  such  force  thai  the  under  jaw  may  be  broken  at  the  will 
of  the  rider.  The  saddle  is  made  up  of  a  number  of  articles  ; 
as  a  piece  of  bull's  hide  on  the  back  of  the  horse  ;  on  this,  a 
Spanish  saddle-tree  lashed  as  tightly  as  an  ordinary  man  can 
do  it,  and  over  all  a  grisly  bear  skin.  The  stirrups  are  oblong 
blocks  of  woojI,  four  or  five  pounds  weight,  six  inches  in 
diameter  one  way,  and  three  in  the  other,  with  holes  in  them 
through  which  It)  thrust  tlie  feet.  In  front,  and  attached  to 
the  stirrup-straps,  are  suspended  round  pieces  of  sole  leather 
prettily  stamped,  which  fall  over  and  protect  the  feet  from  the 
prickly  pear,  under-brush,  &c.,  through  which  it  may  be 
desirable  to  ride. 

The  horse,  accoutred  in  this  way,  is  prepared  for  service. 
And  the  Indian  who  has  rigged  him,  stands  with  him  at  the 
door  waiting  for  the  Don  rider,  who,  after  sufHcicnt  delay  to 
be  respectable,  makes  his  appearance.  His  spurs  are  a 
curiosity;  their  weight  is  a  pound  and  a  half;  the  part  hold- 
ing the  rowel  is  five  inches  long  ;  and  the  teeth  of  the  rowel 
wheels  are  one  and  a  half  inches  in  lenoth  !  And  now  all 
being  ready,  leather  breeches  is  released,  the  Don  is  off  on  a 
full  gallop  ;  it  is  death  or  banishment  for  a  Califbrnian  horse 
to  trot^  No  man  can  ride  better  than  one  of  these  Dons.  He 
leans  forward  sufTiciently  to  give  him  command  of  his  body, 
holds  his  rein  lightly  in  his  left  hand,  feeling  that  he  is  perfect 


t^\f 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CAMPORNIAS. 


361 


master  of  llu;  anininl,  and  riding  fearlessly  over  the  l)i  inks  of 
precipices,  into  rushing  streams,  and  elsewhere,  in  places 
where  the  coward  dare  not  go,  unless  borne  by  his  Icailess 
and  faithful  steed. 

Tiiesc  bronze  Californians,  when  on  horseback,  however, 
are  by  no  means  contemptible  in  some  few  respects.     Their 
bear  himts  are  conducted  with  much  spirit  and  liazard.     Six 
or  eight,  or  more  of  them,  ride  into  the  lower  ground  called 
talarcs,  and  make  war  upon  a  group  of  grisly  bears,  weighing 
seven  or 'eight  himdred  pounds  each,  with  no  other  weapon 
'-ban  the  lasso  and  a  hunter's  knife.      This  las^o  is  a  roj)e 
attached  to  the  girth  of  the  saddle  at  one  end,  and  wi  h  a  run 
ning  noose  at  the  other.     This  being  coik-d  and  hung  on  the 
right  hand,  at  full  speed  of  the  horse  is  thrown  around  the 
neck  of  the  bear  they  are  pursuing,  and  the  well-trained 
horse  wheeled  to  the  right  or  left,  liruin  chokes  himself  at  his 
leisiue.      Sometimes,  however,  the  bear  gives  battle  to  his 
pursuers,  in  which  case,  horses  and  sometimes  men  arc  killed 
and  devoured.  *  / 

On  ihcfi'te  day,  called  "  Rodea,"  when  the  cattle  belong- 
ing to  the  Haciendas  and  Missions  are  brought  in  to  be 
branded,  the  Cavalleros  have  a  fine  opportunity  to  show  their 
horsemanship  and  iheir  skill  in  lassoing.  On  such  occasions, 
the  whole  country  side  is  usually  assembled  to  engage  in  the 
sports  of  the  day,  unfed  except  by  the  joys  of  brandy  and  beef 
and  beans,  incident  to  the  day.  And  when  th^;  company  are 
gathered,  they  sally  into  the  plains,  and  drive  the  cattle  into  a 
large  curul,  or  enclosure  ;  the  entrance  to  which  is  then 
closed  except  so  much  as  will  allow  them  to  escape  one  at  a 
time.  Then  commences  the  branding.  The  older  members 
of  the  herd,  which  ha\c  eluded  the  brand  at  former  ingather- 
ings, are  first  let  out ;  and  as  they  severally  Issue  froir.  the 
gate-way  of  the  carol,  a  bevy  of  lasso  cavalry  start  at  full 
speed  after  them,  the  one  casting  his  noose  around  a  fore  leg, 
another  a  hind  leg,  ami  another  the  head  ;  and  the  aniir'al 
rolls  upon  the  plain.  Immediately  thereupon,  the  hojsemen 
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362 


SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


dismount,  wrap  their  lassos  about  the  legs,  and  holding  down 
the  head  to  the  ground,  apply  the  hot  iron  to  the  shoulder  of 
the  bellowing  captive.  In  this  manner  they  proceed  from 
day  to  day,  until  the  vast  herds  of  those  estates  are  marked 
with  their  owners'  hierro. 

Another  and  perhaps  the  most  interesting  occurrence  among 
the  plantations  and  Missions  is  the  annual  slaughter.  Every 
year  after  the  cattle  become  fat  by  feeding  on  the  wild  clover 
and  oats  of  that  American  Italy,  thousands  of  them  are 
slaughtered  for  their  hides  and  tallow.  And  for  this  purpose 
they  are  driven  into  the  carals,  and  let  out  in  small  numbers 
as  required  by  the  Caveliier  butchers.  The  lasso  is  the  first 
instrument  used  to  bring  the  animals  under  control ;  and  most 
effectual  it  is  for  that  purpose.  Oftentimes  an  hundred  bullocks 
fall  around  the  caral  in  an  hour's  time;  their  skulls  beaten  in, 
their  hides  stripped  off,  the  tallow  and  fat  portions  of  the  flesh 
secured,  a  few  of  the  better  pieces  of  the  lean  flesh  torn  off 
for  eating  and  drying  for  the  use  of  the  Indians,  and  the  skins 
spread  upon  the  ground  and  stretched  with  wooden  pins  to 
dry.  The  Missions,  in  the  days  of  their  prosperity,  killed  each 
its  thousands  annually — some  three,  others  five,  eight,  and  ten 
thousand ;  tried  out  the  tallow,  and  laid  it  away  in  vaults 
under  ground,  to  prevent  its  melting,  and  packed  their  dried 
hides  away  in  long  low  sheds,  erected  for  their  reception. 

All  Californians  bear  testimony  that  this  is  a  notable  day 
among  them.  There  are  screams  of  delight  in  hurling  a 
monster  of  a  bull  upon  the  ground  with  their  lassos.  There 
are  untold  pleasures  to  their  brave  hearts  in  shedding  blood, 
where  there  are  no  rifle  balls  whistling  in  their  ears  a  sugges- 
tion of  dangers  to  their  Castilian  arteries.  And  more  than  all, 
after  the  fete  is  over,  what  legitimate  opportunities  are  offered 
in  the  recollections  of  the  day,  to  expand  the  periphery  of 
their  self-complacency ;  a  deed  which,  if  left  undone  by  a 
Californian  Spaniard,  when  possible  to  be  performed,  would 
involve  the  most  flagrant  breach  of  national  character ;  a  de- 
parture from  the  well-established  laws  of  Californian  glorifi- 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIKORNIVS. 


363 


cation.  Indeed  there  never  was  a  doubt  among  Californians, 
that  they  were  at  the  head  of  the  human  race.  In  ecnvardice, 
ignorance,  pretension,  and  dastardly  tyranny,  the  reader  has 
learned  that  this  pretension  is  well  Ibuiidcd. 

Thus  much  for  the  Spanish  population  of  the  Californias  ; 
in  every  way  a  poor  apology  of  European  extraction ;  as  a 
general  thing,  incapable  of  reading  or  writing,  and  knowing 
nothing  of  science  or  literature,  nothing  of  government  but  its 
brutal  force,  nothing  of  virtue  but  the  sanction  of  the  C'hurch, 
nothing  of  religion  but  ceremonies  of  the  national  ritual. 
Destitute  of  industry  themselves,  they  compel  the  poor  Indian 
to  iabor  for  them,  affording  him  a  bare  savage  existence  for 
his  toil,  upon  their  plantations  and  the  fields  of  the  Missions. 
In  a  word,  the  Californians  are  an  imbecile,  pusillanimous, 
race  of  men,  and  unfit  to  control  the  destinies  of  that  beautiful 
country. 

The  ladies,  dear  creatures,  I  wish  they  were  whiter,  and  that 
their  cheek  bones  did  not  in  their  great  condescension  assimi- 
late their  manners  and  customs  so  remarkably  to  their  Indian 
neighbors.  A  pity  it  is  that  they  have  not  stay  and  corset- 
makers'  signs  among  them,  for  they  allow  their  waists  to  grow 
as  God  designed  they  should,  like  Venus  de  Medici,  that  ill- 
brti^  statue  that  had  no  kind  mother  to  lash  its  vitals  into 
delicate  form.  Black  eyes,  raven  locks,  slender  hands,  elastic 
insteps,  and  you  have  the  Caliiornian  ladies. 


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Sciences 

Corporatioii 


33  W2SfM/!N  STRUT 

WEBSTEX,  Ai.Y.  USM 

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CHAPTER   XXI. 

Indians — Their  Habitations — Ornaments — Dress— Civil  State — Pood 
— Matrimony,  &c. — Navigation — Warlike  Implements — Hunting 
and  Fowling — Religion — Mode  of  Burial,  &c. — Medicine — Youtas 
or  Utav.s — Nabajos — Paiuchks,  or  Piutes. 

Indians. — ^The  original  inhabitants  of  Upper  California  are 
understood  to  belong  to  the  same  family  of  Indians,  speaking 
the  same  language,  and  having  essentially  the  same  manners 
and  customs.  Indeed,  the  whole  coast  from  Lat.  28°  N.,  to 
42°,  together  with  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento,  the  San 
Joaquim,  the  Colorado,  and  the  intermediate  country,  were 
peopled  by  the  same  race,  who  number  at  the  present  time 
not  far  from  40,000. 

The  stature  of  these  people  varies  with  their  habits.  Those 
who  live  on  fish  and  pass  an  idle  filthy  life  along  the  Ocean 
shore,  are  about  five  feet  and  a  half  in  height,  and  rather 
slender  and  feeble,  while  those  who  inhabit  the  great  valleys 
of  the  interior  are  taller  and  more  robust.  Their  complexion 
is  considerably  darker  than  that  of  the  Indians  in  Oregon  and 
the  States  ;  their  lips  are  large  and  projecting,  and  their  noses 
broad  and  flat,  like  the  negro;  the  hair  is  black,  coarse,  and 
straight,  and  when  left  untrimmed,  reaches  to  the  hips  ;  they 
usually  cut  it  five  or  six  inches  from  the  head,  and  this  length 
causes  it  to  bristle  out  in  all  directions,  giving  the  head  the 
semblance  of  a  colossal  hairy  caterpillar,  coiled  up  on  itself. 
Their  heads  are  small  and  badly  formed,  the  mass  of  brain 
lying  back  of  the  ears.  The  forehead  is  particularly  contract- 
ed and  low ;  eyebrows  and  beard  scanty.  They  have  the 
habit  common  to  all  American  Indians  of  extracting  the  beard 
and  the  ha'-r  of  other  parts  of  the  body.  Tattooing  is  one  of 
the  arts  of  beautifying  themselves,  which  is  more  resorted  to 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


365 


by  women  than  men.  Their  -wardrobe  is  very  scanty.  A 
"Wrapper  of  greater  or  less  extent  around  the  waist  is  their  sole 
garment.  To  this  is  added  in  winter  a  rude  outer  covering 
of  deer  or  otter  skin.  Sometimes  they  wear  a  garment 
which  is  made  of  feathers  of  the  water-fowl,  twisted  into 
ropes  and  tied  together  closely,  so  as  to  give  a  downy  surface 
on  both  sides.  The  females  always  have  this  or  a  rush  cov- 
ering around  the  loins  and  usually  over  the  shoulders ;  the 
men  are  commonly  naked.  In  addition  to  these,  it  may  be 
mentioned,  that  in  the  colder  hours  of  a  winter  day,  they  are 
in  the  habit  of  plastering  themselves  over  with  mud,  to  keep 
the  cold  out,  which  they  wash  off  as  the  temperature  rises. 

The  Indians  make  a  very  rustic  kind  of  habitation,  some- 
thing like  the  dwelling  of  the  Hottentots.  The  frame-work 
is  formed  of  pliable  poles,  with  their  butts  inserted  into  the 
ground,  and  drawn  together  at  the  top.  These  are  inter- 
woven with  brush,  and  thatched  with  bulrushes.  The  in- 
closed area  is  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  diameter,  and  twelve  or 
fifteen  in  height,  having  an  opening  at  the  side  to  admit  its 
occupants,  and  a  hole  at  the  top  to  let  out  the  smoke.  Within 
each  of  these  huts  are  commonly  found  eight  or  ten  Indians 
of  both  sexes,  and  all  ages,  nearly  naked,  squatting  around  a 
fire,  and  covered  with  a  variety  of  vermin ;  a  spectacle  of 
the  extreme  filth  and  wretchedness  of  the  most  pitiable  savage 
condition. 

The  furniture  of  these  wigwams,  the  reader  will  naturally 
infer,  is  quite  limited  and  primitive.  A  kind  of  box  or  chest, 
a  bowl  shaped  like  a  high-crowned  hat,  a  bone  awl  used  in 
making  it,  a  piece  of  touch-wood  for  kindling  a  fire,  a  small 
netting  sack  in  which  to  put  their  fiuit  and  seeds,  another  in 
the  form  of  a  bag  to  sling  on  the  shoulders,  for  the  purpose 
of  carrying  their  infants  when  travelling,  fishing-nets,  bows, 
arrows,  lances,  and  a  sea-shell  for  dipping  water  to  drink, 
make  up  the  sum  total  of  the  furniture  of  an  Indian  house- 
keeper in  Upper  California. 

Ornaments  are  as  much  sought  after  by  these  as  they  arc 
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366 


SCENES 


IN       THE       PACIFIC. 


by  the  tribes  farther  North  and  East.  But  the  unfortunate 
creatures  have  little  ability  to  devise  and  manufacture  them. 
The  more  valuable  found  among  them  consist  of  pieces  of 
carved  wood  worn  as  ear-rings,  shells  strung  and  worn  as 
beads,  and  bands  of  feathers  bound  around  the  head.  The 
latter  are  made  of  the  tail  feathers  of  the  golden-winged 
woodpecker,  and  are  very  beautiful.  Some  of  them  contain 
four  or  five  hundred  feathers,  and  as  only  two  can  be  obtained 
from  one  bird,  it  will  be  observed  that  the  labor  of  gathering 
the  materials  of  these  bandeaux  is  so  great  as  to  make  them 
highly  prized  by  the  natives.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that 
bandeaux  of  a  like  kind  are  worn  by  the  Hawaiians. 

Divided  as  they  are  into  small  tribes,  a  portion  of  their  time 
is  spent  in  fighting  among  themselves  on  account  of  encroach- 
ments upon  each  other's  territories.  Such  occurrences  are  the 
most  stirring  and  notable  events  of  their  lives.  Their  stu- 
pidity, insensibility,  ignorance,  inconstancy,  slavery  to  appe- 
tite, excessive  sloth  and  laziness,  being  absorbed  for  the  time 
in  the  stir  and  din  of  night-watchings  and  battle,  give  them 
a  new  existence ;  not  one  creditable  to  human  nature,  but  one 
that  breaks  the  monotony  of  their  beastly  existence.  On  all 
other  occasions,  they  seem  to  have  no  idea  of  industry,  no 
rational  and  inventive  thought,  only  one  strong  and  controll- 
ing impulse,  the  incessant  love  of  amusements  of  the  most 
useless  and  brutal  character. 

When  want  presses  them  into  some  means  of  sustaining 
life,  they  hunt  the  deer,  elk,  and  grisly  bear,  take  fish  from 
the  streams  and  the  ocean,  and  gather  wild  fruits,  acorns, 
seeds,  herbs  and  roots.  The  seeds  they  bruise  into  meal,  of 
which  they  make  gruel,  pudding,  &c.  Sometimes  they  make  it 
into  balls,  and  dry  them  for  future  use.  With  these  vegeta- 
bles they  eat  fish,  deer,  elk,  rabbits,  geese,  ducks,  quails,  &.c. 
The  whale  occasionally  lodges  on  their  shores ;  an  event 
followed  by  great  rejoicings  and  feastings.  The  blubber  is  a 
great  luxury  among  them.  They  cook  the  flesh  of  this  ani- 
mal in  holes  dug  in  the  ground  and  curbed  up  with  stone  like 


TRAVELS      IN      T  il  E      C  A  t.  I  I-  0  R,  N  I  A  S. 


367 


wells.  Over  this  they  build  large  fires,  heat  them  thoroughly, 
clean  out  the  coals  and  ashes,  fill  them  with  whale  flesh,  cover 
the  opening  with  sticks,  leaves,  grass  and  earth,  and  thus  bake 
their  repast.  After  gorging  themselves,  they  hang  the 
remainder  of  the  whale  upon  the  branches  of  the  trees,  away 
from  the  wolves  and  bears,  and  as  hunger  dictates  cut  down, 
roast  and  eat.  Next  to  the  whale  they  prize  the  seal,  which 
they  cook  and  eat  in  u  similar  manner. 

These  people  have  their  forms  of  marriage.  The  matrimo- 
nial alliance  formed,  the  suitor  presents  his  lady  love  with  a 
jug,  in  their  language  an  olo,  the  acceptance  of  which  denotes 
her  consent ;  and  she  makes  her  return  by  presenting  him 
with  a  net,  which  reciprocation  of  testimonials  confirms  the 
marriage.  Among  some  of  the  tribes,  mutual  consent  of  par- 
ties in  the  presence  of  the  tribe  at  the  end  of  a  dance  is  the 
form.  Parentage  and  other  relations  of  consanguinity  are  no 
obstacles  to  matrimony.  A  man  often  marries  a  whole  family, 
the  mother  and  her  daughters ;  and  it  is  rather  remarkable 
in  such  cases  that  no  jealousies  ever  appear  among  these 
families  of  wives.  They  seem  to  consider  their  offspring  as 
the  property  of  all,  and  the  husband  as  their  common  protec- 
tor. It  is  not  unusual  even,  to  find  such  unions  accompanied 
with  the  most  devoted  attachment,  and  old  age  comes  on  with 
their  love  unabated.  In  this  also,  they  assimilate  with  the 
Hawaiians.  And  their  custom  in  this  connection  is  that  women, 
immediately  after  delivery,  having  washed  themselves  in 
running  water,  go  to  the  wood  and  return  home  laden  with 
heavy  burdens ;  meanwhile  the  lazy  husband  lies  at  full  length 
under  the  shade  of  a  tree,  affecting  the  pangs  of  labor,  ex- 
treme illness  and  weakness.  This  farce  continues  three  days. 
All  their  high  festivals  are  kept  during  the  ingathering  of 
Pitahaga,  when  they  give  themselves  up  whole  nights  to 
tumultuous  jollity.  Their  principal  entertainments  are  the 
acting  of  pantomimic  comedies,  which  their  best  players  per- 
form with  an  astonishing  degree  of  excellence.  Extremely 
agile  and  graceful,  they  represent  with  vast  accuracy  by  ges- 


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SCENES      IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


ticulation  and  dumb  show,  the  different  motions  of  fishing, 
hunting,  war,  marriage,  and  whatever  else  is  most  important 
among  them.  « 

In  passing  from  one  place  to  another  by  land,  they  go  on 
foot.  On  these  journeys  the  women  carry  the  furniture  and 
do  all  the  labor,  except  bearing  and  using  the  bows  and 
arrows  of  their  masters,  and  the  flints,  tinder,  feathers  and  sin- 
ews, used  in  repairing  them.  The  men  bore  holes  in  their 
ears  to  which  they  attach  little  boxes,  in  which  these  latter 
articles  are  secured.  Their  mode  of  navigation  is  perhaps  the 
worst  found  among  any  people.  The  "  Balsa"  is  the  only 
thing  of  the  boat  kind  known  among  them.  It  is  constructed 
entirely  of  bulrushes.  These  they  tie  into  bundles  about  ten 
feet  in  length,  large  in  the  middle  and  tapering  to  points  at  the 
ends.  These  bundles  are  lashed  together  in  sufficient  quantity 
to  buoy  up  the  required  number  of  persons,  more  or  less ;  who 
sit  flat  upon  the  craft,  soaked  in  water,  plying  their  paddles. 
Being  pointed  at  each  end,  these  craft  are  propelled  either  way 
with  equal  facility.  In  calm  w^eather  some  of  them  float  their 
upper  surfaces  above  the  water,  but  in  stormy,  and  indeed 
most  of  them  in  all  kinds  of  weather,  are  either  below,  or  on 
a  level  with  the  water. 

These  Indians  also  make  baskets  of  the  bark  of  trees,  which 
they  use  in  transporting  water  and  in  roasting  their  seeds  and 
roots.  This  latter  operation  is  done  by  the  women  dver  a 
brisk  charcoal  fire  with  such  rapidity  and  skill,  as  thoroughly 
to  parch  the  seeds  without  burning  the  baskets.  Some  of 
these  baskets  are  very  neatly  ornamented  with  feathers. 
Their  bows  and  arrows  exhibit  considerable  ingenuity.  The 
former  are  from  three  to  four  and  a  half  feet  long — the  wood 
part  very  well  wrought,  and  the  backs  covered  with  the  sinew 
of  the  deer,  which  gives  them  great  elasticity  and  power. 
The  arrows  also  are  of  the  best  form,  with  points  of  flint  let 
into  the  wood,  and  secured  by  tendons.  TheTndians  use  these 
weapons  with  great  effect.  The  smallest  bird  is  killed  with 
them.     Their  patience,  cunning  and  skill  combined,  is  per- 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


C69 


haps  best  shown,  however,  in  their  manner  of  killing  the  deer, 
which  wi'^  be  described  in  a  following  page. 

Not  less  shrewd  is  their  manner  of  catching  the  water-fowl. 
They  erect  for  this  purpose  a  long  pole  on  each  side  of  the 
river,  and  attach  to  the  one  on  the  shore  opposite  themselves 
a  large  net  of  bulrushes  so  arranged  as  to  be  pulled  across 
the  stream  at  will — artificial  ducks  and  geese,  made  of  the 
bulrushes,  are  then  set  afloat,  which  acting  as  decoys  entice 
the  game  toward  the  poles,  when  the  Indians  scare  them  up, 
and  springing  the  net  across  the  stream,  arrest  their  flight 
and  tumble  them  into  a  pouch  in  the  net  from  which  escape 
is  impossible. 

Of  their  religion,  it  is  known  that  they  believe  in  the  con- 
trol of  good  and  evil  spirits  to  wliom  they  occasionally  offer 
prayers.  They  have  persons  among  them  professing  power 
over  thunder,  lightning,  rain,  the  movements  of  whales,  &c. ; 
but  they  do  not  seem  to  be  credited  by  the  Indians,  as  seers, 
but  rather  as  impostors  having  in  view  the  obtainment  of 
presents.  They  firmly  believe,  however,  that  all  diseases  are 
sent  upon  thera  by  the  incantations  of  their  enemies.  They 
appear  to  have  a  faint  idea  of  a  future  state  ;  for  in  burning 
their  d(ad  as  they  do  about  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco — and 
in  burying  them  as  they  do,  farther  south — their  habit  is  to  de- 
posit with  them  bows  and  arrows  and  other  things,  as  those 
tribes  do  who  have  a  definite  faith  in  another  existence. 

Perhaps  the  finest  traits  in  the  character  of  these  Indians 
are  their  faithful  and  ardent  attachment  to  each  other,  and 
their  admiration  of  true  courage. 

After  battle,  or  when  disease  has  destroyed  their  friends, 
they  exhibit  the  truest  and  deepest  grief  I  have  ever  seen. 
The  parental  feeling — particularly  maternity,  that  holiest  im- 
pulse of  our  nature,  is  possessed  by  them  in  all  its  extreme 
tenderness.  The  aged  and  decrepid,  too,  receive  from  them 
the  warmest  sympathy,  and  when  the  old  or  the  young  die, 
they  lament  a  number  of  nights  about  their  tombs,  or  their 
last  abode ;  and  consider  it  unkind,  for  many  months  after,  to 


•r 


W: 


370 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


mention  the  names  of  the  dead  in  the  presence  of  the  surviving, 
and  thus  renew  their  grief.  Their  respect  for  the  truly  vaUant 
amounts  almost  to  adoration.  A  chief  or  great  brave  who 
falls  in  battle  is  always  honored ;  not  indeed  with  a  trium- 
phal entry  into  Rome  or  Paris,  but  by  having  a  slice  of  his 
flesh  eaten  by  his  victorious  and  reverent  enemy.  This  is  es- 
teemed the  highest  honor  that  can  be  paid  to  the  dead.  It 
is  also  believed  by  them  that  the  flesh  eaten  will  convey  to 
the  bosom  that  receives  it,  the  brave  breath  that  has  fled  from 
the  deceased.  They,  like  other  North  American  savages,  take 
the  scalps  of  their  enemies,  and  preserve  them  as  trophies  of 
their  valor.  One  custom  among  them  is,  I  believe,  entirely 
peculiar  to  themselves.  They  pluck  out  the  eyes  of  their 
enemies,  and  by  some  method  preserve  them  in  a  state  of  great 
perfection,  as  the  most  precious  tokens  of  their  victory. 

The  hot  sand,  and  hot  air  baths,  are  the  sovereign  remedies 
for  all  diseases  among  the  Indians  of  Upper  California ;  and 
accordingly  the  means  of  administering  them  are  found  every- 
where. The  former  are  prepared  by  scooping  out  a  trench  in 
the  sand  six  or  eight  feet  in  length  by  one  or  two  in  breadth  j 
less  or  more  according  to  the  size  of  the  patient.  Over  this  a 
fire  is  kept  burning  until  the  sand  is  thoroughly  heated.  The 
fire  is  removed  and  the  sand  stirred  until  a  proper  tempera- 
ture is  obtained.  The  patient  is  then  laid  into  the  hollow, 
and  covered  with  the  heated  sand  up  to  the  neck.  By  this 
means  a  protracted  and  profuse  perspiration  is  produced,  in 
the  midst  of  which  the  patient  plunges  into  a  stream  or  the 
sea. 

The  hot  air  bath  is  prepared  as  follows.  A  bole  is  dug  in 
the  ground,  on  the  bank  of  a  stream,  or  other  beds  of  water, 
from  five  to  ten  feet  in  diameter,  and  from  one  to  three  feet  in 
depth,  which  is  covered  with  a  well  braced  roof  of  pole?,  brush 
and  grass,  all  secured  by  cords  and  plastered  over  with  mud. 
A  hole  is  left  in  the  centre  of  the  roof  for  the  escape  of  smoke 
and  admission  of  the  light ;  one  also  at  the  side  for  entrance 
and  egress.    Several  persons  enter  this  oven  and  build  a  fire 


i;^ 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


371 


of  dry  wood  near  the  door,  which  they  continue  till  the  tem- 
perature is  raised  as  high  as  they  can  bear  it,  when  they  fall 
to  scraping  themselves  violently  with  shells  and  pieces  of 
sharp  wood ;  and  at  length  when  the  heat  is  no  longer  sup- 
portable, leave  the  oven  and  plunge  into  the  water.  These 
processes  are  repeated  till  the  patient  is  restored  or  dead. 

YuTAS  OR  Utaws. — The  tribes  of  Indians  called  the  Utaws 
or  Youtas,  and  the  Arrapahoes  or  Navajos,  inhabit  the  country 
lying  between  the  Lake  Tirapanigos  and  Santa  Fe.  The 
Utaws  range  between  Latitudes  35*^  and  42^  N.,  and  the 
Meridians  29°  and  S?*"  W.  Longitude  of  Washington.  The 
legitimate  country  of  the  Arrapahoes  lies  between  36*^  and 
42^  N.,  and  between  Meridians  35^  and  37<*  W.  Longitude  of 
Washington,  the  Jila  being  their  southern  and  the  Sheetska- 
dee  a  part  of  their  eastern  boundary. 

"  The  great  Yutas  tribe,"  says  my  friend  Doctor  Lyman, 
**  is  divided  into  two  families  which  are  contradistinguished  by 
the  names  of  their  respective  head-quarters ;  the  Taos  Yutas, 
so  called,  because  their  principal  camp  is  pitched  in  Taos 
mountains,  seventy  miles  north  of  Santa  Fe ;  and  the  Timpa- 
n'.gos  Yutas,  who  hold  their  great  camp  near  the  Timpanigos 
lake."    These  two  families  speak  the  same  language,  have 
the  same  manners  and  customs,  and  indulge  in  the  same  bitter 
hatred  towards  each  other.    A  few  years  ago  they  were  one 
people ;  but  lately  an  old  feud  between  some  of  the  principal 
chiefs  resulted  in  a  dismemberment.    The  Timpanigos  Yutas 
are  a  noble  race,  very  friendly  to  Americans ;  and  brave  and 
hospitable.    They  look  upon  their  brethren  of  the  Taos  moun- 
tains with  contempt  on  account  of  their  thieving  propensities, 
and  their  treachery  in  robbing  and  often  murdering  the  soli- 
tary wanderer  who  may  chance  to  come  into  their  country. 
The  river  San  Juan  is  the  boundary  between  these  two  bran- 
ches of  the  Yutas,  across  which  they  seldom  pass.    Each  of 
these  tribes  numbers  about  ten  thousand  souls.    They  subsist 
chiefly  by  the  chase ;  but  cultivate  a  little  maize.' 


y 


.*> 


W 


Wi' 


}) 


thi^ 


372 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


"  The  Nabajos  maintain  perpetual  peace  with  the  Timpani- 
gos,  but  are  at  deadly  feud  with  the  Taos  party. 

"  These  Nabajos  are  the  most  civilized  of  all  the  wild  Indi- 
ans of  North  America.     They  raise  a  great   abundance  of 
maize  or  Indian  corn,  wheat,  beans,  peas,  onions,  squashes  and 
other  esculent  vegetables,  and  an  inferior  kind  of  tobacco, 
known  in  New  Mexico  under  the  name  of  punche.     They 
have  large  droves  of  magnificent  horses,  many  of  which  Mill 
compare  with  the  finest  horses  of  the  States,  both  as  to  ap- 
pearance and  value.     They  also  breed  a  few  mules ;  but  usu- 
ally supply  themselves  with  these  animals  by  marauding  ex- 
peditions  into    New  Mexico  and  the   Californias.    These 
Indians  are  constantly  at  war  with  white  people,  and  attack 
them  whenever  they  meet  them.  But  in  the  case  of  the  Ameri- 
cans they  have  thus  far  found  that  mere  animosity  and  Indian 
whoops  form  a  poor  defence  against  the  rifles  of  our  trappers. 
They  are  frequently  making  peace  with  the  people  of  New 
Mexico ;  but  observe  their  pledged  faith  no  longer  than  until 
they  think  their  duped  allies  have  accumulated  a  few  sheep, 
mules  and  horses ;  when  the  first  indication  the  poor  herdsmen 
have  of  the  renewal  of  hostilities,  is  thedesqent  of  a  war-party 
upon  their  villages,  killing  every  one  who  has  not  time  to 
escape,  driving  off  all  their  flocks,  and  committing  every  other 
kind  of  depredation.    Yet  so  contemptible  is  the  cowardice  ot 
those  New  Mexicans,  that  they  will  exert  themselves  strenu- 
ously for  a  renewal  of  the  peace,  which  they  know  the  wily 
Indian  will  assent  to,  now  that  he  has  become,  for  the  pres- 
ent, satiated  with  plunder.    Indeed  the  experience  of  these 
repeated  acts  of  treachery  seems  to  have  no  effect  in  arousing 
the  courage  and  indignation  of  the  New  Mexicans.  They  are, 
in  fact,  morally  and  physically  beneath  even  the  Indian,  and 
more  unfit  to  rank  among  the  civilized  races.    They  are  more 
treacherous,  more  cowardly  and  more  despicable   in  every 
way.     They  cross  themselves  and  adore  the  Virgin,  at  the 
same  breath  driving  a  concealed  dagger  to  your  heart ;  and 
pray  God  for  the  peace  of  your  soul,  while  they  kick  you,  be* 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  8. 


373 


'1  ' 


cause  in  your  death-struggles  you  don't  lie  conveniently  still 
for  them  to  rifle  your  pockets. 

"  These  Nabajos  have  within  a  few  years  past  been  taught 
some  respect  for  the  Americans  in  the  following  manner. 
A  large  party  of  trappers,  with  a  few  Shawnee  and  Delaware 
Indians,  penetrated  into  the  heart  of  their  country,  were  vic- 
torious in  all  their  skirmishes,  killed  a  great  many  Indians,  at 
a  loss  of  only  one  or  two  of  their  own  party,  and  drove  off 
many  mules,  horses,  and  sheep.  This  expedition  has  had  a 
good  effect  upon  the  Nabajos.  They  now  prefer  trading  to 
fighting  with  the  Americans. 

"  In  the  autumn  of  1841,  also,  a  trader  from  Bent's  Fort,  on 
the  Arkansas,  went  with  a  party  of  thirty-five  men  into  the 
Nabajo  country,  built  a  breastwork  with  his  bales  of  goods, 
and  informed  the  astonished  Indians  that  he  had  "  come  into 
their  country  to  trade  or  fight,  whichever  they  preferred.'* 
The  campaign  of  the  old  trappers  was  too  fresh  in  their 
memory  to  allow  hesitation.  They  chose  to  trade ;  and  soon 
a  brisk  business  commenced — ^the  savages  bartering  freely 
their  valuable  furs  and  blankets  for  the  gaudy  goods  of  the 
whites ;  so  that,  in  a  couple  of  days,  the  latter  were  on  their 
return  to  the  Arkansas. 

"  These  Indians  are  in  possession  of  large  flocks  of  sheep, 
which  they  have,  at  different  times,  taken  from  the  New 
Mexicans.  I  was  informed  that  they  owned  in  1841  upwards 
of  one  hundred  thousand  head.  The  fleeces  of  these  animals 
are  long,  coarse,  and  heavy,  somewhat  resembling  mohair. 
These  they  shear,  and  manufacture  into  blankets  of  a  texture 
so  firm  and  heavy  as  to  be  perfectly  impervious  to  water. 
This  fact  I  have  myself  tested  by  suspending  one  of  them  at 
its  four  corners,  and  pouring  in  two  or  three  buckets  of 
water,  which  remained  there  until  it  all  evaporated,  and  not 
a  drop  filtered  through.  I  have  now  in  my  possession  one  of 
these  blankets  which  I  purchased  of  the  Nabajos  soon  afler  I 
entered  the  Taos  Mountains,  and  which,  during  two  years* 
encampment  in  the  wilderness,  did  me  most  valuable  service. 

33 


vMi 


I  I 


374 


SCENES      IN       TUB       PACIFIC. 


Throughout  very  many  nights  of  incessant  mountain  rains  it 
was  my  only  shelter ;  and  never,  in  a  single  instance,  was 
any  pari  of  my  clothing  wet  which  was  covered  by  it. 

"  They  make  two  species  of  blankets,  both  equally  efficient 
in  protecting  the  wearer  from  cold  and  rain.  The  one,  of 
which  I  have  a  specimen,  is  made  of  the  native  black  and 
white  wool,  woven  in  alternate  stripes  of  about  four  inches 
in  width,  each  with  a  very  narrow  border  of  indigo  blue. 
This  is  their  comm(^  blanket. 

"  The  other  is  the  state  robe,  the  blanket  of  the  chiefs,  a  sort 
of  national  costume.  It  is  firmly  woven  of  various  colors, 
and  with  a  great  variety  of  fantastic  figures.  The  scarlet  and 
indigo  borders  and  decorations  are  made  of  the  threads  of 
woollen  cloths  which  they  purchase  of  the  traders,  unravelled 
and  rewoven  with  other  yarns,  dyed  with  indigo.  From  the 
bark  of  the  "  chimisa"  or  wild  sage  (one  of  the  salviee)^  they 
procure  a  deep  brilliant  yellow  dye.  These  three  bright 
colors,  with  the  natural  black  and  white  wool,  make,  in  their 
hands,  a  very  superb  blanket,  and  one  so  highly  esteemed  by 
them,  thdt  they  will  not  part  with  it  on  any  consideration. 
Besides  being  costly  and  gay,  they  look  upon  them  as  na- 
tional  heirloomSj  and  appear  to  be  offended  when  a  proposi- 
tion is  made  to  purchase  them.  I  offered  a  Nabajo  chief,  for 
one  of  these  blankets,  different  articles  which  were  equivalent 
there  to  at  least  $75 ;  but  he  rejected  them  in  a  haughty  man- 
ner, notwithstanding  they  were  scarce  and  exceedingly  valua- 
ble to  him.  They  consisted  of  a  good  rifle,  powder,  lead,  indigo, 
Vermillion  (for  painting  their  faces),  coral-beads,  knives, 
looking-glasses,  needles,  American  tobacco,  &c.,  &c.,  in  a 
word,  an  assortment  of  all  the  articles  of  Indian  trade. 

"  The  Timpanigos  Yutas  are  very  friendly  to  the  American, 
and  are  delighted  to  have  him  in  their  camp.  Their  first  and 
constant  greeting  is,  *  Kahche  winay — marakah  nay,'  *  very 
good  American.'  They  manifest  the  greatest  contempt  for 
the  New  Mexicans.  I  travelled  through  their  country  with 
one  of  their  head  chiefs,  named  Wah-cah-rah,  who  was  on 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


375 


his  return  from  an  unsuccessful  expedition  across  the  St. 
John's  river,  in  puiisuit  of  his  faithless  wife,  who  had  left  him 
and  fled  over  the  border  with  her  paramour.  He  was  quite 
sad  dui'.ng  the  early  part  of  the  journey,  and  was  constantly 
mutteritig  something  of  which  I  frequently  distinguished  the 
expression,  *  Kah-che,  kai-yah,  mah-ru-kah,'  which,  from 
hearing  so  often  repeated,  I  recollected,  and  afterwards,  when 
he  became  more  philosophic,  which  was  the  case  towards  the 
latter  part  of  the  journey,  I  asked  him  to  interpret  for  me 
(he  could  speak  a  little  Spanish),  and  he  said  it  meant  *  very 
bad  girl.'  He  disclaimed  all  thought  of  invading  the  country 
of  his  successful  rival,  for  he  had,  as  he  said,  two  other  beau- 
teous Helens,  who  would  console  him  for  his  loss,  and  they 
certainly  ought  to  do  so,  for  he  was  the  very  beau-ideal  of 
nature's  nobility." 

PiuTES. — The  northern  banks  of  the  Colorado,  the  region 
of  Severe  river,  and  those  portions  of  the  Timpanigos  desert 
where  man  can  find  a  snail  to  eat,  are  inhabited  by  a  race  of 
Indians,  which  I  have  partially  described  in  my  former  book 
of  travels  before  mentioned,  under  the  name  of  Piutes.  Doctor 
Lyman  gives  the  same  name  differently  spelled,  Paiuches. 
He  introduces  his  observations  in  relation  to  them  by  some 
further  remarks  as  to  the  desolate  character  of  the  country 
■which  they  inhabit. 

"  The  only  animal  which  1  saw  for  many  hundred  miles 
through  this  country,  was  the  hare  (in  one  or  two  instances 
a  stray  antelope),  but  so  wild,  that  we  seldom  could  kill  one 
of  them.  They  were  so  densely  covered  with  vermin,  that 
nothing  but  utter  starvation  would  induce  one  to  eat  them ; 
they  live  upon  the  bark  and  tender  branches  of  wild  sage ; 
and  yet  this  immense  tract  of  country  is  inhabited  by  a  com- 
paratively numerous  tribe  of  Indians,  generally  known  as  the 
Paiuches,  but  by  some  called  the  Shoshonies,  a  name  perhaps 
more  properly  applied  to  a  tribe  living  a  few  degrees  to  the 
northward,  and  very  much  like  the  Paiuches  in  character. 

"  The  Paiuches  speak  the  same  language  as  the  Yutas,  and 


f\l 


i» 


376 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


are  a  branch  of  that  tribe,  but  considered  by  the  latter  as 
mere  dogs,  the  refuse  of  the  lowest  order  of  humanity ;  and 
they  certainly  are ;  for  living  in  a  country  where  vegetation 
is  so  scarce,  that  nothing  but  the  diminutive  hare  can  exist ; 
whe?  t  the  water  is  of  the  poorest  character,  and  famine  an 
everyday  occurrence ;  thus  .being  nearly  deprived  of  even  the 
plainest  nourishment  fit  for  the  support  of  the  body,  and  al- 
most entirely  destitute  of  clothing  to  protect  them  from  the 
inclemency  of  winter,  what  more  could  be  expected  of  them 
than  an  equality  with  the  brute  creation  1  They  are  superior  to 
them  only  in  possession  of  a  soul ;  but  of  this  they  seem  to  be 
totally  unconscious.  They  have  an  idea  of  some  superior 
being,  whose  presence  they  appear  to  recognize  only  in  the 
raging  elements.  As  to  a  future  state  they  are  utterly  igno- 
rant :  their  life  being  one  of  brutal  sensuality,  and  death  a 
supposed  annihilation.  They  do  not  even  manifest  the  mu- 
tual affection  of  parents  and  children,  so  universally  observed 
in  the  brute.  There  are  instances  to  the  contrary,  but  these 
are  very  rare. 

"  The  food  of  these  Indians  is  in  conformity  with  the  charac- 
ter of  the  country  they  inhabit.  They  collect  the  seeds  of 
grasses,  growing  on  the  margins  of  the  springs  and  salt  ponds, 
roast  and  pulverize  them  between  two  stones,  and  then  boil 
them  into  a  thick  mush.  Upon  this  they  subsist  tolerably 
well  while  the  gathering  season  continues;  but  being  too 
stupid  and  improvident  to  make  provision  for  the  remainder 
of  the  year,  they  are  often  in  the  most  wretched  condition  of 
want.  Sometimes  they  succeed  in  ensnaring  a  hare,  the  flesh 
of  which  they  eat,  and  the  skin  of  which  they  cut  into  cords 
with  the  fur  adhering ;  and  braid  them  together  so  as  to  form 
a  sort  of  cloak  with  a  hole  in  the  middle,  through  which  they 
thrust  their  heads.  The  bark  of  pine  trees  growing  on  some 
of  the  trap  mountains,  is  also  a  general  article  of  food ;  so 
are  roots !  Ants,  grasshoppers,  and  lizards,  are  classed 
among  their  choicest  dainties.  There  are  no  relentings  in 
favor  of  these  little  unfortunates ;  for  no  sooner  are  they 
grasped  by  the  hand,  than  the  teeth  consign  them  to  the  tomb. 


:! 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      C  A  L  I  F  0  R  N  I  A  S. 


377 


"  It  seems  impossible  that  human  beings  can  exist  as  these 
miserably  destitute  Indians  do,  without  degenerating  into  the 
brutes  they  are  ;  and  therefore  if  they  were  not  originally  an 
inferior  order  of  the  human  family,  they  have  become  so  in 
all  that  appertains  to  the  distinguishing  and  ennobling  fea- 
tures of  the  race.    In  stature  they  are  diminutive ;  in  personal 
appearance  disgusting  in  the  extreme  ;  their  long  untrimmed 
hair,  instead  of  hanging  in  flowing  masses  over  the  shoulders, 
like  that  of  other  American  Indians,  is  thickly  matted  with 
dirt,  stands  out  on  the  head  in  hard  knots,  alive  with  vermin ; 
which  latter  are  eagerly  sought  after  by  them,  as  an  article  of 
food.      I  have  seen  other  Indians  engaged  in  this  species  of 
foraging,  and  even  some  of  the  women  of  New  Mexico,  but 
with  much  less  zest  and  enjoyment  of  the  appetite.     Ablution, 
a  custom  universal  among  other  Indians,  these  never  practise. 
I  might,  but  will  not  say  more  on  this  matter ;  enough  has  pro- 
bably been  said  to  give  a  pretty  good  idea  of  the  exceeding 
disgust  I  felt  at  seeing  and  knowing  that  such  wretched  ex- 
istences attached  to  our  race.      Without  knowledge,  without 
shelter,  without  raiment,  food,  water,  fit  for  man,  they  are 
born  and  live  and  die  among  those  terrible  deserts,  the  most 
miserable  of  men,  yet  contented  with  their  lot.      But  every 
man's  hand  is  against  them.      The  New  Mexicans  capture 
them  for  slaves ;  the  neighboring  Indians  do  the  same ;  and 
even  the  bold   and  usually  high-minded  old  beaver-hunter 
sometimes  descends  from  his  legitimate  labor   among  the 
mountain  streams,  to  this  mean  traffic.      The  price  of  these 
slaves  in  the  markets  of  New  Mexico  varies  with  the  age  and 
other  qualities  of  person.     Those  from  ten  to  fifteen  years  old 
sell  from  $cO  to  $100,  which  is  by  no  means  an  extravagant 
price,  if  we  take  into  consideration  the  herculean  task  of 
cleansing  them  fit  for  market.     Their  filth  in  their  native 
state  can  indeed  scarcely  be  conceived  by  one  who  has  not 
beheld  it ;  and  to  him  it  seems  that  nothing  less  potent  than 
the  waters  of  Peneus  can  wash  it  away. 

"  Notwithstanding  their  horrible  deficiency  in  all  the  com- 
32  » 


!'.  I 


m 


m\ 


M 


378 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIVIC. 


forts  and  decencies  of  life,  these  Indians  are  so  ardently 
attached  to  their  country,  that  when  carried  into  the  lands  of 
their  captors  and  surrounded  with  abundance,  they  pine  away 
and  often  dre  in  grief  for  the  loss  of  their  native  deserts.  In 
one  instance,  I  saw  one  of  these  Paiuches  die  from  no  other 
apparent  cause  than  this  home-sickness.  From  the  time  it 
was  brought  into  the  settlements  of  California  it  was  sad, 
moaned,  and  continually  refused  to  eat  till  it  died. 

"  The  Paiuches  are  very  cowardly.  They,  however,  make 
some  weapons  of  defence,  as  bows  and  arrows.  The  bows 
are  about  six  feet  long ;  made  of  the  savine  {^Juniperus  sabina). 
This  wood  being  very  tough  and  elastic,  the  bows  are  both 
powerful  and  durable.  Their  arrows  are  made  of  a  species 
of  cane-bamboo,  and  are  from  three  to  four  feet  long,  pointed 
with  a  bit  of  fire-hardened  wood.  When  these  canes  are 
young  they  chew  them  for  the  juice,  which  contains  consider- 
able saccharine  matter.  Their  habitations,  if  such  they  may 
be  called,  are  of  the  rudest  ciiaracter.  Some  of  them  are 
mere  holes  dug  in  the  sand-hills;  others  consist  of  sticks  and 
branches  of  brush  and  trees  piled  up  conically,  and  covered 
•with  dirt.  This  latter  kind  is  usually  found  where  they 
attempt  villages  of  greater  or  less  size,  and  stand  huddled 
closely  together.  The  interior  of  these  huts  is  filthy  beyond 
description. 

"  These  Indians,  although  destitute  of  that  daring  which 
characterizes  many  other  tribes  in  the  mountain  regions  of 
which  we  are  speaking,  are  occasionally  a  source  of  great 
annoyance  to  those  who  traverse  these  deserts,  by  gathering 
around  their  camps  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  letting 
fly  a  volley  of  arrows  at  the  travellers'  horses  and  mules,  mor- 
tally wounding  or  disabling  more  or  less  of  them,  so  that  they 
must  be  left  behind  when  the  caravan  moves  on ;  and  when 
danger  of  chastisement  has  passed,  they  surfeit  themselves  on 
their  carcases. 

"  In  this  description  of  .the  Paiuches  I  have  been  governed 
by  my  own  perjonal  observations,"  says  Doctor  Lyman,  "made 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


379 


during  the  three  months  I  was  occupied  in  traversing  their 
country.  I  have  been  rather  minute,  because  I  am  not  aware 
of  any  other  correct  account  having  been  given  of  them. 
And  although  one  is  disgusted  with  their  personal  filth  and 
mental  degradation,  yet  his  strongest  sympathies  must  be  ex- 
cited by  this  shocking  degradation,  which  the  character  of  the 
country  that  they  inhabit  promises  to  perpetuate.  They  were 
the  innocent  cause  of  a  great  deal  of  suffering  to  myself  and 
two  companions.  Four  New  Mexicans  attached  ti*  our  party 
captured  on  the  banks  of  the  Colorado  an  adult  male  and 
female  with  one  child,  whom  myself  and  two  friends  tried  to 
induce  them  to  liberate.  But  as  the  other  Americans  of  our 
company  would  not  aid  our  effort,  the  majority  was  found 
against  the  movement  and  it  failed.  Our  humanity  raised 
such  prejudices  against  us,  that  dissensions  arose  which  result- 
ed' in  a  determination  on  the  part  of  three  of  us  to  have  no 
more  connection  with  the  party,  and  to  prosecute  our  journey 
*  on  our  own  hook.'  The  other  Americans,  as  desirous  as 
ourselves  for  the  liberation  of  the  captives,  but,  as  it  proved, 
more  discreet,  remained  with  the  Mexicans.  So  off  we  started 
by  ourselves,  three  lone  men,  and  travelled  thirty-five  or  forty 
days,  and  endured  the  most  excessive  fatigue,  and  depriva- 
tions of  food  and  water,  much  of  which  would  have  been 
avoided  if  we  had  smothered  our  objections  to  our  companions* 
conduct  in  this  affair,  and  been  guided  by  their  greater  expe- 
rience over  those  dreadful  wastes.  As  it  was,  however,  we 
travelled  many  successive  days  along  the  Colorado,  over  sandy 
deserts,  subsisting  on  a  daily  allowance  of  a  few  mouthsful  of 
thin  mush,  and  a  little  nauseous  and  bitter  water  wherewith 
to  wet  our  mouths  once  in  twenty-four  or  forty-eight  hours. 
No  druggist  ever  compounded  a  draught  more  disgusting  than 
the  green,  slimy  or  brackish  waters  which  we  were  compelled 
to  drink.  Finally  our  little  stock  of  provisions  was  consumed 
to  the  last  grain ;  and  starvation  was  staring  us  in  the  face ; 
but  relief  was  not  deni  Axis;  the  sight  of  the  wooded  moun- 
tains of  Upper  California  inspired  us  with  new  strength  and 


i 


i 


ii 


Kl.l 


380 


SCElfES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


courage,  and  soon  after  we  fell  in  with  a  river  of  pure  waters 
coming  down  from  them ;  more  delicious  than  the  streams  of 
olden  fable;  and  our  thankfulness  and  delight — who  can 
measure  it  ?  It  was  ecstasy — such  feelings  I  believe  have  no 
words.  In  those  beautiful  mountains  we  surfeited  ourselves 
on  the  rich  meats  and  fruits  there  abounding ;  prudence  was 
cast  to  the  winds  ;  we  could  eat,  and  therefore  did  so  ;  but 
ere  long  v/e  suffered  bitterly  for  our  imprudence. 

"We  wei«e  not  a  little  gratified,  however,  on  arriving  at  the 
settlements  on  the  sea-shore  to  learn  that  after  we  left  the 
camp  of  these  New  Mexicans,  our  countrymen  who  remained 
with  them,  secretly  in  the  night  time  loosed  the  Paiuche  cap- 
tives and  sent  them  to  their  desert  homes." 

Animals. — Ursus  Mmericanus,  The  Black  Bear,  is  an 
inhabitant  of  many  parts  of  California,  and  is  too  well  known 
to  most  readers  to  require  a  description.  In  its  habits  and 
appearance  it  differs  little  from  its  brethren  of  the  north. 

Ursus  Arctos  v.  Americanus  Barren  Ground  Bear. — 
This  is  probably  a  variety  of  the  first  mentioned  species, 
from  which  it  diff*ers  in  its  lighter  color,  being  a  dusky 
brown.  It  resembles  in  appearance  and  habits,  particu- 
larly in  the  nature  of  its  food,  which  consists  to  a  great 
degree  of  fish,  the  brown  bear  of  Norway.  Much  confusion 
has  been  produced  by  confounding  this  with  the  next  which 
we  shall  mention,  and  which  is  now  well  recognized  as  a  dis- 
tinct species. 

Ursus  ferox,  The  Grisly  Bear. — This  is  the  largest,  most 
formidable,  and  most  remarkable  wild  animal  of  the  country. 
Numerous  and  almost  incredible  are  the  stories  related  of  its 
ferocity  and  strength.  Specimens  are  to  be  met  with  meas- 
uring four  feet  in  height,  and  weighing  from  500  to  1000 
pounds.  Unlike  the  black  bear,  this  species  never  climbs 
trees.  His  habits  are  solitary,  and  though  an  ugly  customer 
to  meet,  he  seldom  becomes  the  aggressor.  Although  flesh  is 
his  favorite  food,  yet  when  that  is  not  attainable  he  will  eat 
vermin,  berries  and  roots,  in  digging  for  which,  he  frequently 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


381 


overturns  fallen  timber  which  a  yoke  of  oxen  could  scarcely 
move.  It  is  seldom  that  the  Indians,  with  their  imperfect 
weapons,  venture  to  attack  this  formidable  animal ;  and  when- 
ever one  is  killed  by  them,  the  occasion  becomes  a  matter  of 
great  rejoicing,  and  the  fortunate  victor  is  ever  after  held  in 
great  estimation  by  his  comrades.  A  steak  cut  from  the 
haunch  of  the  grisly  bear,  and  roasted  on  a  stick  by  a  camp 
fire,  is  by  no  means  despicable  fare,  and  the  skin  forms  a  most 
comfortable  couch  for  the  hunter. 

Ursus  mariiimus,  Polar  Bear.— This  great  inhabitant 
of  the  frozen  regions  is  not  properly  a  Californian  animal, 
though  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  sometimes  makes  his  appear- 
ance on  the  extreme  northern  coast,  being  floated  southward 
on  his  own  peculiar  and  original  conveyance,  a  cake  of  ice. 

Procyon  lotor.  Raccoon. — This  well  known  animal  is  found 
in  many  parts  of  California. 

Meles  Sdradoirttf  American  Badger. — ^This  species  in- 
habits the  northern  part  of  California  as  well  as  the  plains 
of  Missouri  and  those  near  the  Rocky  Mountains  north 
to  the  Peace  river.  It  burrows  in  the  sand,  and  is  well  calcu- 
lated for  its  mode  of  life,  being  very  strong  in  the  fore  feet. 
It  is  entirely  different  in  aspect  and  size  from  the  European 
species. 

Gulo  luscusj  The  Glutton  or  Wolverine. — This  peculiar 
animal,  which  partakes  of  the  nature  of  the  bear,  the  fox 
and  the  weasel,  is  well  known  to  the  beaver  trappers,  by 
the  constant  annoyance  to  which  it  subjects  them  in  devouring 
their  baits  and  destroying  their  traps.  It  is  a  savage,  sullen 
creature,  and  though  from  its  size  not  formidable  to  man,  it 
preys  upon  small  animals.  Stories  have  been  often  repeated 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  wolverine  entraps  the  deer — by 
climbing  to  a  branch  of  a  tree,  and  letting  down  moss,  upon 
which  the  unsuspecting  victim  stopping  to  feed,  is  immediately 
mounted  by  the  glutton,  which,  fixing  his  claws  and  teeth  in  its 
back,  maintains  his  hold  till  the  lacerated  and  terrified  animal 
falls  and  offers  a  delicious  meal  to  its  destroyer. 


'I 


I, 


Q : 


3S2 


SCENES       IN       THE      PACIFIC. 


Mustela  mtlgaris,  Common  Weasel,  and  M.  erminea^ 
Ermine,  are  both  found  in  various  parts  of  the  Californias. 
M.  vison,  The  Mink,  M.  martes,  The  Martin,  Mephitis  ^^meri- 
canUi  I'he  Skunk,  are  also  inhabitants  of  this  country  in  com- 
mon with  nearly  the  whole  American  Continent. 

In  many  parts  wolves  are  very  numerous.  Several  species 
are  met  with,  of  which  the  Lupus  Americamis,  Common  Wolf, 
is  perhaps  the  most  numerous.  The  others  are  L.  grisetiSf 
Grey  Wolf,  L.  nubilis,  Dusky  Wolf,  and  L.  ater,  Black  Wolf, 
with  their  varieties.  The  Canis  latrans,  Prairie  Wolf,  is  also 
found  here. 

The  natives  have  a  very  miserable,  dirty  species  of  cur, 
which  appears  to  be  about  half  domesticated,  resembles  its 
parent-stock  the  wolf,  and  is  quite  useless,  except  to  devour 
provisions  and  fight  flies. 

The  Canis  {vulpes)fulvns,  Red  Fox,  and  theCanis  cinereo- 
argentatus,  Grey  Fox,  are  common.  These  are  the  only 
ascertained  species  which  are  met  with,  and  it  is  probably  a 
-variety  of  the  latter  which  is  described  by  Douglas  as  being 
plentiful  on  the  Multnomak,  and  which  he  absurdly  states  is 
in  the  habit  of  climbing  trees. 

There  are  probably  more  than  one  species  of  the  cat  tribe 
remaining  undescribed  by  naturalists,  in  the  countries  of  the 
Columbia  and  Sacramento.  This  opinion  is  expressed  by 
Douglas.  The  ascertained  species  are  the  following  :  Felis 
concoloTf  the  Cougar  or  Puma,  often  called  "  lion"  by  the  in- 
habitants, a  well  known  and  very  savage  and  formidable  ani- 
mal. It  is  confined  mostly  to  the  deep  forests,  and  thickly 
wooded  sides  of  the  mountains,  and  preys  on  deer  and  other 
animals.  Felis  canadensis^  Northern  Lynx ;  Felis  Jhsciata, 
Banded  Lynx,  or  Tiger  Cat ;  Felis  rufa.  Red  Lynx,  comprise 
all  the  described  varieties  found  in  the  Californias.  The  latter 
is  a  timid  animal,  and  may  easily  be  captured  with  the  aid  of  a 
dog,  and  a  club  or  almost  any  c^  .or  weapon. 

In  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquim  rivers,  as  well  as  on 


h 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


383 


many  parts  of  the  coast,  the  Plioca  vUellinaf  Common  Hair 
Seal,  is  abundant,  and  follows  the  track  of  the  salmon. 

Castor  Fiber,  The  Beaver,  and  Fiber  zibethictts,  The  Musk 
Rat,  are  common  in  some  parts  of  the  country ;  and  the  former 
is  numerous  at  the  .nouths  of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquim 
rivers.  The  beaver  is  well  known  to  naturalists,  for  the  re- 
markable skill  and  industry  which  it  exhibits  in  the  construc- 
tion of  its  habitation,  and  the  general  sagacity  and  intelli- 
gence of  its  character.  For  this  reason,  as  well  as  on  account 
of  the  value  of  its  skin  as  an  article  of  commerce,  and  the 
employment  which  its  capture  affords  to  many  enterprising 
and  bold  men,  some  account  of  its  haunts,  and  of  the  means 
used  in  obtaining  it  for  purposes  of  trade,  may  not  be  uninte- 
resting. Near  and  about  the  mouth  of  the  Sacramento,  as 
before  observed,  lies  a  wide  extent  of  low  land  overflowed  by 
the  tide,  and  including  some  hundreds  of  small  islands,  cov- 
ered with  an  enormous  growth  of  rushes.  There  is  probably 
no  spot  of  equal  extent  on  the  whole  continent  of  America, 
■which  contains  so  many  of  these  much  sought  for  animals. 
For  the  last  fifteen  years  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  have 
annually  sent  hither  a  company  of  from  fifty  to  one  hundred 
trappers,  who  have  each  year  taken  from  this  spot  alone  from 
five  to  ten  thousand  of  these  valuable  skins.  It  is  said  by 
hunters  well  acquainted  with  the  whole  Rocky  Mountain 
region,  that  they  have  never  seen  anywhere  else  such  large 
and  fat  beavers.  On  account  of  the  scarcity  of  the  timber  of 
which  their  huts  are  generally  constructed,  the  beavers,  like 
true  philosophers,  have  here  accommodated  themselves  to 
circumstances,  and  build  their  habitations  of  rushes,  curiously 
and  skilfully  interwoven.  Notwithstanding  the  immense  con- 
scription drawn  from  their  families  by  the  hunters,  their  num- 
bers as  yet  do  not  sensibly  diminish.  The  very  large  size  of 
the  skins  obtained  from  this  place,  causes  their  value  to  be 
greatly  enhanced.  The  probable  worth  of  each  skin  after  it 
is  prepared  by  the  hunters  for  exportation,  is  about  three  dol- 


1" 


% 


3S4 


/ 

SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


lars ;  and  reckoning;  the  average  number  at  eight  thousand, 
we  may  arrive  at  an  approximation  to  the  great  importance 
of  this  single  locality  to  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company.  The 
quality  of  the  fur,  however,  is  hardly  so  fine  as  that  which  is 
taken  in  a  more  northerly  region. 

Centts  alcesy  The  Moose,  is  found  in  all  the  woody  and 
mountainous  regions  on  the  Columbia,  and  is  abundant  farther 
southward,  near  the  coast.  This  noble  animal,  the  largest, 
heaviest,  and  stateliest,  of  the  deers,  is  peculiarly  worthy  of 
mention.  In  size  scarcely  inferior  to  the  horse,  with  his  huge 
palmatcd  horns  stretching  three  feet  on  each  side  of  his  head, 
his  long  legs  and  racking  gait  giving  a  singular  and  gro- 
tesque air  to  all  his  movements,  the  moose  is  perhaps  the 
most  remarkable  inhabitant  of  the  country.  Over  level 
ground,  and  when  unimpeded  by  bushes,  or  by  snow,  his 
speed  is  superior  to  that  of  the  swiftest  horse,  and  the  crack- 
ing of  his  joints  and'  hoofs  can  be  heard  almost  as  far  as  his 
form  can  be  seen.  In  fact  it  is  only  when  a  deep  snow  covers 
the  ground  that  the  capture^f  the  moose  can  be  well  effected. 
When  this  is  the  case,  the  expert  hunter,  with  his  snow-shoes 
and  his  dogs,  becomes  more  than  a  match  for  the  moose, 
with  all  his  desperate  efforts  to  escape.  A  day  is  generally 
selected  after  a  deep  fall  of  snow  has  been  followed  by  a 
slight  rain,  which  forms  a  crust  on  the  surface.  The  poor 
moose,  wliose  great  size  and  weight  are  here  of  the  utmost 
disadvantage  to  him,  is  hindered  in  his  flight  by  breaking 
through  the  crust,  which  cuts  and  bruises  his  legs,  and  sink- 
ing into  the  snow,  soon  becomes  exhausted ;  while  the  light- 
ness of  the  dogs,  and  the  snow-shoes  of  the  pursuer,  bear 
them  forward  in  safety,  and  soon  the  crack  of  the  unerring 
rifle  tells  that  the  noble  game  has  met  his  fate.  The  tongue 
of  the  moose  is  considered  a  great  delicacy  by  the  hunters,  and 
his  skin  and  horns  are  also  of  great  value.  This  animal, 
when  full  grown,  is  from  twelve  to  fourteen  hands  high,  and 
weighs  from  five  to  nine  hundred  pounds.  Its  color  is  a 
dark  greyish  brown,  fading  into  white  or  light  fawn  color 


hi 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      C  A  LI  r  O  R  N  I  A  S. 


385 


■\P, 


on  the  belly.  The  head  is  large,  the  eyes  peculiarly  promi- 
nent and  bright,  and  the  horns,  which  are  thrown  back  on 
the  shoulders  when  the  animal  is  running,  will  weigh  from 
twenty  to  forty  pounds. 

The  moose  must  not  be  confounded  with  another  species 
which,  though  it  is  totally  distinct,  is  yet  often  called  by  the 
hunters  '  grey  moose.'  This  is  the  Elk  proper ;  also  known 
as  the  stag,  red  deer,  wapiti,  &c.,  the  Cervtts  Canadensis  of 
naturalists.  The  elk  is  an  inhabitant  of  the  plains,  particu- 
larly in  the  valleys  of  the  San  Joaquim  and  other  rivers, 
where  immense  herds,  sometimes  of  many  thousands,  often 
congregate.  The  importance  of  the  elk  to  the  Indians  as  an 
article  of  food,  leads  them  to  adopt  many  ingenious  devices 
for  his  destruction.  One  of  these  is  interesting.  The  Indian 
has  prepared  an  elk  skin,  with  the  head  and  horns  in  their 
natural  condition.  After  surveying  a  herd  of  his  intended 
victims,  who  are  quietly  feeding  on  the  plain,  he  gets  stealthily 
to  their  windward  side,  and  aftor  crawling,  sometimes  on  his 
hands  and  knees,  to  escape  their  keen  observation,  as  near  as 
he  thinks  possible,  and  if  practicable,  screening  himself 
behind  a  skirt  of  bushes,  he  puts  on  the  prepared  skin,  and 
emerges  from  his  hiding-place,  with  his  bow  and  arrows 
under  his  arm.  As  soon  as  he  is  sufficiently  near  for  his  pur- 
pose, and  sometimes  the  unsuspicious  animals  will  allow  him 
to  approach  almost  into  the  centre  of  the  herd,  he  fits  his 
arrows  to  his  bow,  and  fires  away  right  and  left,  as  fast  as 
the  shafts  can  be  discharged,  and  before  the  victims  have 
recovered  from  their  astonishment  the  plain  is  strewed  with 
the  wounded  and  dying. 

Another  method  of  taking  this  animal  is  by  means  of 
snares,  made  of  a  tough  kind  of  grass,  which  are  set  on  their 
places  of  resort.  The  elk  is  considerably  less  in  size  than  his 
gigantic  relative  the  moose,  and  his  figure  and  general  appear- 
ance are  quite  different,  being  much  lighter  and  more  slender, 
and  resembling  more  nearly  the  common  deer.  The  legs,  like 
those  of  the  whole  family,  are  long  and  slender,  the  tail  short, 

33 


ii^f.,-' 


|[ 


386 


SCENES      IN      THK      PACIFIC. 


the  horns  long  and  much  branched,  the  color  a  decided  grey, 
often  with  a  mixture  of  brown. 

Several  other  species  of  deer  are  found  on  the  Grand  and 
Sheetskadee  rivers,  and  in  various  other  parts  of  California. 
The  Cervus  macrotis,  Black-tailed  Deer,  is  a  handsome  ani- 
mal. Its  size  is  about  that  of  the  common  deer.  The  color 
is  blueish  grey  on  the  back,  and  fawn  color  on  the  belly.  The 
ears  are  curious,  being  as  long  as  those  of  an  ass,  and  the  tail 
is  short  and  black.  Another  very  small  and  pretty  species  is 
the  Cervus  leucurus,  Longrtailed  or  Jumping  Deer,  the  chcvreuil 
of  the  hunters.  This  is  grey  on  the  back,  and  pure  white  on 
the  belly,  and  is  remarkable  for  having  a  tail  from  twelve  to 
eighteen  inches  in  length. 

Antil&pe  furdfer^,  The  Pronghorn  Antelope,  is  a  very 
pretty  and  delicate  species.  It  is  not  generally  abundant, 
though  in  some  localities  it  may  be  found  in  considerable  num- 
bers. Its  extreme  ehyness  renders  its  capture  a  matter  of 
great  difficulty.  It  presents  a  very  graceful  appearance  when 
bounding  up  the  sides  of  almost  inaccessible  rocks ;  and  the 
hungry  traveller  is  often  tantalized  with  beholding  it  standing 
in  perfect  safety  on  a  far-off  cliff,  while  his  utmost  endeavors 
to  get  it  within  range  of  his  rifle  are  perfectly  futile. 

Ovis  montana,  The  Mountain  Sheep,  or  Argali,  is  another 
peculiar  animal.  Its  habitation  is  on  the  loftiest  and  coldest 
mountains,  among  the  most  tremendous  and  impassable  pre- 
cipices. In  general  figure  it  much  resembles  a  large  sheep  of 
the  domestic  kind,  but  its  horns  seem  out  of  all  proportion  to 
its  body.  These  are  from  two  to  nearly  three  feet  in  length ; 
are  deeply  ribbed,  and  curve  backwards.  Their  weight  on 
the  male  is  sometimes  thirty  pounds.  The  covering  of  the 
body  can  scarcely  be  called  wool,  being  a  kind  of  coarse, 
short  hair,  of  a  dingy  brown  color.  It  is  called  by  the  voya- 
geurs  "  Mouton  gris"  and  the  flesh,  though  rather  dry,  is 
very  good.  The  mountain  sheep  appears  to  have  early 
attracted  the  attention  of  travellers,  and  is  described  by 
Padres  Piccolo  and  Salvatierra  under  the  Californian  name  of 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALirORNIAS. 


387 


Taye.  The  horns  of  this  species  are  manufactured  into  spoons 
and  various  other  useful  articles. 

Bos  Jlmericanus,  The  Bison,  so  well  known  to  western 
hunters,  and  so  numerous  on  the  prairies  between  the  Rocky 
mountains  and  the  United  States,  can  hardly  be  considered  a 
Californian  animal.  That  it  once  inhabited  the  country  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  but  probably  in  consequence  of  the  great  and 
singular  change  which  has  converted  the  interior  from  a  rich 
and  fertile  plain  into  a  desolate  waste,  the  bison  has  receded, 
and  is  now  only  to  be  found,  and  that  in  small  numbers,  on 
the  extreme  eastern  and  northern  border. 

Lutra  maritia,  The  Sea  Otter,  and  LtUra  Brasiliensis,  The 
Land  Otter,  are  found  in  many  parts  of  the  country.  The 
former  is  abundant  in  most  parts  of  the  whole  coast,  and  at 
the  mouths  of  the  rivers.* 

Of  rats,  mice,  marmots,  and  squirrels,  there  are  numerous 
species,  only  one  or  two  of  which  seem  worthy  of  notice. 
The  common  rat,  the  black  rat,  and  two  or  three  different 


1  I  'l 

Ml 
I  If 

if 


*  This  is  perhaps  the  most  valuable  fur-producing  animal  of  the  coun- 
try, and  its  skin  is  much  sought  after  by  the  Russians  for  the  purpose  of 
adorning  the  cloaks  and  state  robes  of  the  nobility.  The  fur  is  of  a  vel- 
vety brown  color  on  the  back,  and  sprinkled  with  black  and  silky  hairs, 
and  the  lower  parts  of  the  animal  arc  of  a  rich  silvery  grey.  The  sea  otter 
is  from  live  to  six  feet  in  length,  and  weighs  from  thirty  to  forty  pounds, 
its  body  being  of  very  slender  proportions.  The  hinder  legs  are  very  shoil, 
the  tail  short,  broad,  and  paddle-shaped.  The  color  varies  at  different 
periods  of  life  ;  when  very  young,  the  fur  is  thin  and  scanty,  and  the  skia 
principally  covered  with  brown  hair  ;  from  this  period  till  full  grown,  the 
color  is  nearly  black,  with  many  hairs  tipped  with  white,  and  the  face, 
throat,  breast,  and  sometimes  the  entire  belly,  are  yellowish  white,  or  very 
light  brown.  The  fur  gradually  increases  in  thickness  and  length  until 
the  animal  attains  its  growth,  when  it  assumes  the  rich  brown  of  maturity, 
which  in  extreme  age  becomes  a  chestnut,  or  even  a  perfect  yellow  color. 

The  sea  otter  lives,  sometimes  in  families  of  considerable  numbers,  on 
the  sea-washed  rocks,  and  mostly  in  the  water.  -  It  frequently  rises  to  tb<> 
surface,  and  utters  a  hoarse  snapping  barkjike  that  of  an  angry  dog.  It 
feeds  on  fish,  and  brings  forth  its  young  in  holes  dug  in  the  sand.  The 
skins  are  worth  from  $50  to  $100  each.  The  shores  of  California  would 
furnish  from  20,000  to  30,000  annually. 


■?! 


:fi 


■4i 


■SBP 


388 


8CBNES      IN      TUB      PACIFIC. 


* 


kinds  of  mice,  ure  found  in  great  numbers  in  many  places, 
and  their  depredations  are  sometimes  very  disagreeable. 
Pseudostoma  hursarium  (?)  The  Pouched  Rat,  and  the  ^rc- 
tomys  Beecheyif  Small  Marmot,  are  curious  little  creatures. 
The  latter  is  exceedingly  plentiful  in  the  plains  near  San 
Francisco  and  Monterey.  It  is  a  very  sprightly  animal,  some- 
what larger  than  the  common  rat,  of  a  fine  brown  color,  and 
constructs  its  burrows  with  much  skill,  carrying  in  its  capa- 
cious cheek  pouches,  a  store  of  nuts,  corn,  and  acorns,  for  its 
winter's  food.  The  species  of  Arctomys  are  numerous,  and 
some  of  them  probably  undescribed.  Of  ascertained  species 
may  be  mentioned  A.  Indovicianus,  the  well-known  and  very 
pretty  Prairie  marmot,  aometimes  called  Gopher,  which  how- 
ever is  not  found  far  to  the  west,  and  Jl.  monaxy  the  wood- 
chuck.  Of  squirrels,  there  may  be  observed  Sciurus  cine- 
retiSf  the  gray,  S.  niger,  the  black,  S.  macrourevSf  the 
great-tailed,  besides  P/eroTn^j  alpiniis{?)  the  flying  squirrel, 
and  a  species  of  TamiaSf  striped  squirrel  or  dormouse.  Of 
hares  there  are  several  fine  species ;  one  weighing  from  eight 
to  twelve  pounds,  probably  Lepus  gladalis ;  another  is  L. 
VirginianttSjthe  Prairie  Hare,  and  also  L.  Princeps  (?)  the  Lit- 
tle Hare,  which  is  only  about  six  inches  in  length. 

Birds. — Worthy  of  mention  among  the  first  of  the  feathered 
family  in  California,  is  the  Great  Vulture,  peculiar,  probably, 
to  this  country.  Let  his  name  be  given  in  full — a  lofty  and 
sonorous  one,  and  well  fitting  its  owner — Sarcoramphos  Cali' 
fomianus  !  Second  op'y  to  the  huge  condor  of  South  Ame- 
rica in  size,  and  closely  allied  to  him  in  many  respects,  this 
remarkable  bird  deserves  particular  notice.  The  e^reat  vul- 
ture is  met  with  along  the  whole  Pacific  coast  from  Lower 
California  to  the  most  northern  boundaries  of  Oregon  and  the 
Russian  possessions.  Solitary  in  its  habits,  rapacious  in  its 
appetite,  enormous  in  size,  and  singular  in  conformation  and 
appearance,  it  seems  to  hold  the  same  position  in  the  scenery 
of  this  country  as  its  celebrated  European  congener,  the 
Lammergeyer,  in  that  of  the  Alps.    It  builds  its  nest  among 


TRAVELS      IN      THB      CALIFORNIAS. 


389 


the  woody  districts  of  California,  on  the  tops  of  the  highest 
trees,  in  the  most  inaccessible  parts  of  the  mountain  valleys% 
It  is  very  wary  and  difficult  of  approach,  except  while  on  its 
nest,  or  after  a  meal,  when  its  whole  nature  seems  to  be 
changed,  and  it  is  so  overcome  by  the  inordinate  indulgence 
of  its  appetite,  that  it  may  be  knocked  on  the  head  with  a 
stick.  Their  food  is  carrion,  and,  in  common  with  others  of 
the  vultures,  the  carcase  of  a  dead  horse  or  other  animal  be- 
comes their  gathering-place.  The  great  vulture  measures, 
when  full  grown  and  in  perfect  plumage,  about  four  feet 
eight  inches  in  length,  from  the  point  of  the  beak  to  the  end  . 
of  the  tail,  and  from  nine  feet  six  inches  to  ten. feet  from  tip 
to  tip  of  the  wings.  The  color  is  an  uniform  brownish  black ; 
the  bill,  and  skin  of  the  head  and  legs,  yellow.  The  quill 
feathers  are  much  esteemed  by  the  hunters  and  boatmen  for 
making  tubes  to  their  pipes. 

Cathartes  aura^  The  Turkey  Buzzard,  so  common  in  the 
Southern  States,  is  rather  a  rare  bird  in  California.  Its  habits 
are  well  known.  As  a  scavenger  it  is  of  great  benefit  to  the 
inhabitants  of  the  places  which  it  frequents.  A  dead  hog  or 
sheep  lies  only  long  enough  to  emit  the  odor  so  grateful  to 
the  nostrils  of  this  filthy  bird,  before  it  is  devoured  utterly  out 
of  sight.  As  far  as  the  observations  of  the  author  have  ex- 
tended, it  is  in  California  a  bird  of  passage,  being  only  found 
there  in  the  autumn  and  winter. 

Cathartes  atratus,  The  Black  Vulture,  is  quite  common 
in  almost  every  part  of  the  country  west  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. Its  habits  and  general  appearance  are  quite  similar  to 
those  of  the  last  mentioned  species. 

Aquila  Chrysaetos,  The  Golden  Eagle,  is  a  noble  bird,  and 
is  considered  by  the  Indians  as  well  as  the  civilized  nations, 
an  emblem  of  power  and  bravery.  Its  plumes  are  used  by 
the  natives  as  ornaments,  and  are  attached  to  their  pipes  or 
calumets,  from  which  circumstance  it  is  called  the  Calumet 
eagle.  This  species  is  found  on  the  coast,  and  in  most  sections 
of  the  woody  and  mountainous  parts  of  California.  It  feeds 
33* 


r     1 


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mm.  t 


390 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIVIC. 


on  hares,  grouse  and  other  game,  and  seldom,  if  ever,  catches 
fish. 

AquUa  leitcocephala^  The  Bald  Eagle. — ^This  well  known 
bird,  the  "  American  Eagle"  by  pre-eminence,  seems  hardly 
worthy  of  his  place  as  the  emblem  of  the  United  States. 
Though  in  appearance,  in  elegance  and  strength  of  figure,  in 
rapidity  of  flight,  and  keenness  of  vision,  he  is  inferior  to  none 
of  his  race,  the  truth  compels  the  confe&<iion  that  his  private 
character  is  tinctured  with  some  unworthy  vices.  His  appe- 
tite is  dreadfully  voracious,  and  when  it  cannot  be  otherwise 
satisfied,  he  contents  himself  with  attacking  the  vultures,  and 
devouring  the  disgusting  contents  of  their  maws,  after  com- 
pelling them  to  disgorge  by  repeated  blows  on  their  backs. 
He  is  also  a  complete  pirate  in  his  warfare  with  the  honest 
fish-hawk,  often  forcing  the  latter,  by  dint  of  superior  size  and 
strength,  to  give  up  his  well  earned,  long  watched  for,  and 
skilfully  secured  prey  of  fish,  which  he  devours  with  great 
zest.  He  is  a  very  expert  fisher  himself,  however,  and  the 
weight  of  his  victim  is  sometimes  really  surprising.  The 
haunts  of  this  eagle  are  about  streams  which  contain  its 
favorite  food,  where  it  may  often  be  seen  percl^ed  on  the  over- 
hanging limb  of  a  dead  tree,  keeping  vigilant  watch  on  the 
water  below,  and  along  the  coast,  near  the  mouths  of  creeks 
and  inlets  of  the  sea.  The  voice  is  a  shrill  scream  or  whistle 
which  may  be  heard  at  a  great  distance.  The  young  are 
generally  from  two  to  four  in  number,  and  they  remain  a  long 
time  in  the  nest.  Great  confusion  has  been  produced  in 
nomenclature  by  the  frequent  mistakes  arising  from  the  variety 
of  color  in  this  bird,  a  variety  which  seems  to  depend  solely 
upon  age.  The  first  plumage  is  of  a  brownish  black  color, 
which  in  the  ensuing  summer  becomes  a  dark  and  speckled 
grey,  and  it  is  not  till  the  third  year  that  it  assumes  the  pure 
and  brilliant  white  of  the  head  and  neck,  which  has  given  it 
the  epithet  of  "  Bald,"  and  the  deep  black  of  the  rest  of  the 
body.    The  bald  eagle  is  about  three  feet  in  length,  and 


Jl 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  8. 


391 


seven  in  extent.  The  wings  and  claws  are  extremely  vigor- 
ous and  powerful. 

»^quila  Haliaeta^  The  Osprey  or  Fish  Hawk,  inhabits  the 
coast,  and  many  of  the  interior  waters  of  this  country.  This 
bold  and  active  fisher  has  been  so  well  described  by  natural- 
ists, as  to  make  any  extended  notice  here  superfluous,  though 
his  admirable  traits  of  character,  his  perseverance,  patience, 
and  skill  in  his  occupation  as  an  angler,  forbid  us  to  entirely 
omit  speaking  of  him.  Almost  every  one  who  has  visited  the 
Atlantic  coast,  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  is  acquainted  with  this 
bird,  and  has  observed  his  well  contested  quarrels  with  the 
bald  eagle. 

Falco  peregrimis,  The  Black  Hawk  or  Peregrine  Falcon,  is 
found  in  some  parts,  particularly  the  northern,  where  he  is 
probably  only  a  summer  visitor.  This  hawk,  as  well  as  many 
other  species,  is  called  "  little  eagle"  by  the  Indians. 

Falco  IslandicuSj  The  Jer-Falcon,  is  an  elegant  and  bold 
bird,  probably  the  most  beautiful  of  the  tribe.  He  inhabits 
the  northern  coast,  and  is  properly  confined  to  the  frozen  re- 
gions, though  individuals  are  by  no  means  rare  in  Upper  Cali- 
fornia. The  color  of  this  bird  is  nearly  white,  with  small 
brown  spots  on  the  back  and  rump.  Some  specimens  are  met 
with  whose  color  is  purely  and  entirely  white.  It  preys  on 
plover,  geese  and  ducks,  which  it  strikes  while  on  the  wing 
with  great  vigor.  It  is  an  exceedingly  strong  winged  and 
powerful  bird,  and  measures  about  thirty  inches  in  length,  by 
four  feet  six  inches  in  extent. 

Several  other  of  the  Falcons  of  lesser  note  are  found  here ; 
among  these  may  be  mentioned  the  Falco  sparvenus,  Sparrow 
Hawk,  well  known  all  over  North  America,  the  Falco  cO' 
lumbarius,  Pigeon  Hawk,  and  the  1  eautiful  Jiccipiter  plum' 
hanus,  Gos  Hawk,  identical  with  the  European  species,  so 
celebrated  for  its  use  in  the  noble  sport  of  falconry. 

Of  the  Owls  there  are  several  species.  The  Strix  Virgt- 
niana,  Great  Horned  Owl,  often  alarms  the  benighted  traveller 
with  its  discordant  hootings.     It  is  somewhat  different  from  its 


w 


M 


IJ 


392 


SCENES      IN      TKE      PACIFIC. 


brethren  of  the  same  species  in  the  States ;  the  color  being  a 
deeper  and  brighter  brown.  The  Strix  nyctaeuy  Gr  jat  Snow 
Ow],  is  well  known  as  an  inhabitant  of  almost  all  the 
northern  parts  of  America.  It  preys  on  rats,  birds  and  hares, 
and  is  a  very  dexterous  fisher.  The  Indians,  and  even  the 
white  residents,  sometimes  eat  it,  and  indeed  its  flesh  is  very 
white  and  palatable.  Several  other  owls  inhabit  this  country, 
among  which  must  be  mentioned  the  little  Strix  mnicularia^ 
which  seems  to  reverse  the  habits  of  its  family,  by  living  in  the 
burrows  of  the  prairie  marmot.  They  may  be  seen  in  great 
numbers  just  at  the  close  of  evening,  sitting  at  the  mouths  of 
their  holes  on  the  sandy  plains. 

Lanitis  borealisy  The  Northern  Shrike  j  several  species  of 
Tijranntis  and  Tyranntday  Fly-catchers  ;  Merida  migratoriaf 
The  Robin ;  Orpheus fdivox,  The  Cat-bird  ;  Orpheus  ;  ufus. 
The  Brown  Thrush ;  several  SylvicoloB ;  Mauda^  The  Lark, 
one  or  two  species ;  Emberiza  nivalis^  The  Snow  Bunting  j 
Icterus  phceniceuSf  The  Redwing,  are  found  in  various  parts  of 
the  Galifornias  as  well  as  in  the  United  States. 

Loxia  leucopteray  The  Cross-bill,  is  found  all  over  the 
country  in  the  pine  forests,  and  displays  great  dexterity  in 
picking  out  with  its  curiously  constructed  bill  the  seeds  of  the 
pine  cones,  which  are  its  principal  food. 

Corvus  coraxy  The  Raven,  is  numerous  in  many  parts  of 
the  Californias,  and  differs  not  at  all  in  plumage  and  habits 
from  its  brethren  in  the  United  States  Corvus  coroney  The 
Crow,  is  also  found  in  great  numbers. 

Corvus  picdy  The  Magpie,  much  resembles  in  general  ap- 
pearance the  European  species,  from  which  it  differs  in  size, 
being  considerably  larger,  and  its  colors  are  rather  deeper 
and  more  brilliant.  It  is  a  bold  and  saucy  bird,  living  upon 
various  kinds  of  reptiles  and  even  small  birds,  is  fond  of  car- 
rion of  all  sorts,  and  has  often  the  impudence  to  visit  the 
camp  of  the  hunter  and  carry  off  his  meat. 

Garrtilm  cristatusy  The  Common  Blue  Jay,  and  another 
smaller  speciei,  probably  G.  Steller%  are  quite  common.    The 


TRAVELS      IK      THE      CALIFORNIA  6. 


393 


latter  sometimes  congregate  in  flocks  of  considerable  number, 
and  are  tame  and  familiar,  coming  freely  into  the  villages  in 
search  of  food. 

Colaptes  MexicanuSf  a  very  pretty  Woodpecker,  is  found 
in  Upper  California,  and  all  along  the  Pacific  coast,  and  is, 
with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  individual  of  the  golden- 
winged  species,  Picus  auratus,  the  only  woodpecker  which 
the  author  has  observed,  except  a  species  at  Monterey,  which 
is  probably  not  yet  described. 

In  some  parts  of  California,  particularly  in  the  South,  the 
beautiful  Humming  Bird  is  quite  numerous.  As  far  as  the 
author's  notice  has  extended,  the  species  are  but  two,  the 
Trochilus  colubrisj  Common  Humming  Bird,  well  known  to 
every  one  in  the  United  States,  and  a  still  more  elegant  spe- 
cies, T.  rtifus,  which  seems  to  inhabit  almost  the  whole 
country,  from  Nootka  Sound  to  the  Rio  del  Norte  in  Mexico. 
This  delicate  and  splendid  little  creature  is  somewhat  less  in 
size  than  the  common  species,  and  is  perhaps  the  most  per- 
fect gem  in  nature.  When  seen  glancing  through  the  leaves, 
it  resembles  the  flash  of  a  large  ruby. 

Swallows  are  abundant,  and  of  several  species,  among 
which  may  be  mentioned  Hirundo  Americana,  the  Common 
Barn  Swallow,  H.  lunifronsj  the  Cliff  Swallow,  and  the 
//.  riparia.  Bank  Swallow  or  Sand  Martin. 

Caprimulgvs  Virginianus^  The  Night  Hawk,  often  alarms 
the  wearied  traveller,  near  nightfall,  by  swooping  down,  and 
uttering  in  his  ear  its  odd  and  startling  note.  Jilcedo  Jllcyon, 
The  Kingfisher,  is  seen  flitting  over  every  little  stream  and 
water-course  in  search  of  his  scaly  prey,  and  seems  to  be  a 
component  feature  in  the  scenery  of  every  rapid  and  waterfall. 

There  is  probably  no  country  in  the  world  which  produces 
so  many  varieties  of  the  Grouse,  or  in  so  great  numbers. 
The  heart  of  a  Yankee  sportsman  would  almost  burst  with 
delight  at  the  succe^  of  a  day's  shooting  in  some  parts  of 
the  interior  of  California.  Tetrao  urophas-ianusy  The  Great 
Cock  of  the  Plaiiis,  second  only  in  size  and  beauty  to  the 


t 


1: 

I 


394 


8c::ne8    in    the    pacific. 


celebrated  cock  of  the  woods  of  the  north  of  Europe,  is  very 
plentiful  in  North  California,  as  well  as  in  the  regions  watered 
by  the  Columbia  river.  This  noble  bird  generally  makes  his 
residence  in  the  barren  plain,  among  low  bushes  and  brush- 
wood, under  which  it  runs  and  lurks  j  and  is  flushed  with  some 
difficulty,  generally  taking  wing  near  enough  to  the  shooter  to 
afford  him  a  fair  mark.  The  cock  of  the  plains  is  about  thirty 
inches  in  length,  and  nearly  four  feet  in  extent,  and  weighs  from 
seven  to  ten  pounds.  The  flesh  is  very  fine  and  delicate. 
The  color  is  a  bright  grey,  varied  with  small  brown  spots  on 
the  back  and  wings.  Another  fine  species  is  the  T.  oh- 
scuruSf  Dusky  Grouse,  a  very  handsome  bird,  though  much 
less  in  size  than  the  preceding,  and  which,  together  with  the 
T.  rupestris,  Rock  Grouse,  inhabits  the  mountainous  regions 
of  the  North.  T.  umbellus,T\ie  Huffed  Grouse,  or  Pheasant 
of  the  Southern  States,  and  the  T.  leuctirusy  White-tailed 
Grouse,  are  common  in  different  places.  I  have  never  met 
with  either  the  T.  phasianellus,  Pintail  Grouse,  or  the  T. 
Frankliniii  which  are  probably  confined  to  the  more  remote 
regions  of  the  North. 

The  bays,  inlets,  and  rivers,  are  well  stocked  with  different 
species  of  water  birds,  and  the  low  lands  near  the  outlets  of 
some  of  the  streams  on  the  Pacific  coast  actually  swarm  with 
geese,  ducks,  widgeon,  teal,  cranes,  curlews,  snipes,  and  va- 
rious other  waders  and  swimmers.  Of  this  class  of  birds,  the 
infinite  variety  forbids  mention  but  of  a  few  individuals.  The 
Tringa,  Sand  Piper,  the  Charadrivs,  Plover,  the  JVumeri- 
nus,  Curlew,  the  Totanus,  Tatler,  the  Limosa,  Godwit,  the 
Scolopax,  Snipe,  the  Phalarope,  the  Lams,  Gull ;  of  each 
several  species,  and  in  immense  numbers,  throng  the  shores. 

Cygnus  buccinator,  The  Swan,  is  the  largest  bird  of  the 
country,  and  seems  to  differ  in  nothing  from  the  same  species 
elsewhere.  Its  color  is  pure  white,  except  that  of  the  bill 
and  legs,  which  is  black,  and  of  the  forehead,  which  is  a  fine 
orange.    This  is  a  splendid  and  powerful  bird.     They  arrive 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORMAS. 


395 


from  the  far  north  in  the  spring,  generally  as  early  as  April, 
and  return  in  October  or  November. 

A  smaller  species  of  swan  freqaents  the  same  locality.  It 
resembles  the  last  mentioned,  except  in  size,  being  consider- 
ably smaller,  and  in  its  note,  which  is  quite  different.  This 
may  be  the  C.  Bemckii.  Douglas  speaks  of  a  third  variety 
found  near  the  Columbia,  and  which  he  describes  as  equal  in 
size  to  the  common  swan,  of  a  bluish  grey  on  the  back  and 
white  on  the  belly,  and  he  states  that  this  color  is  "  preserved 
in  all  stages  of  its  growth."  This  is  probably  a  mistake. 
That  individuals  answering  this  description  are  found,  there  is 
no  doubt,  but  they  seem  to  be  the  young  of  the  first-mentioned 
species. 

Geese  are  abundant  in  similar  places,  and  their  term  of 
residence  in  the  country,  and  of  migration,  appears  to  be  the 
same  with  those  of  the  swan.  The  species  which  have  come 
under  the  author's  observation  are  the  Jinser  albifronSf 
Laughing  Goose,  Ji.  Canadensis^  The  common  Wild  Goose, 
^.  hyperboretiSy  The  Snow  Goose,  and  Jl.  bemacla,  The  Brant. 
Pelicanus  onocrotalus.  The  White  Pelican,  is  sometimes 
seen  in  various  places  on  the  coast.  A  flock  of  these  birds, 
standing  in  a  line  on  the  very  verge  of  the  sandy  shore,  is  a 
fine  sight ;  their  pure  white  color  and  lofty  stature  making 
them  visible  at  a  great  distance.  The  peculiar  habits  of  the 
pelican  have  often  been  described,  and  nothing  new  can  be 
added  as  having  come  under  the  special  observation  of  the 
author.  Large  numbers  frequent  the  harbors,  and  resort  much 
to  the  little  island  of  Alcatrasses,  which  is  covered  with  their 
exuviae. 

Off  the  Pacific  coast  may  be  seen  the  huge  Albatross,  so 
well  known  to  seamen,  on  almost  all  parts  of  the  deep. 
These  can  often  be  taken  by  throwing  a  hook  over  the  side 
of  the  vessel,  baited  with  a  piece  of  pork  or  other  meat. 
Their  voracity  is  so  excessive  th&t  they  will  quarrel  for  pos- 
session of  the  prize  which  costs  its  unfortunate  captor  so 
dear.     There  are  two  species,  Diomedea  exulans  and  fuli- 


!^' 


V       I 


396 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


ginos€L  Specimens  are  sometimes  seen  of  most  enormous 
size,  measurin;;  nearly  four  feet  in  length,  and  from  ten  to 
twelve  across  the  wings.       *  , 

There  are  probably  many  yet  undescribed  birds  and  qua- 
drupeds in  this  country.  The  author's  sketches  in  this  depart- 
ment are  necessarily  rather  those  of  a  traveller  than  a  natu- 
ralist, and  he  has  been  obliged  to  content  himself  with  men- 
tioning those  species  which  casually  came  within  his  own 
notice.  It  is  very  probable  that  many  inaccuracies  may  be 
detected  both  in  his  nomenclature  and  descriptions,  but  these 
may  be  excused  by  the  circumstances  under  which  his  notes 
were  taken,  his  lack  of  books  of  reference,  and  his  imperfect 
acquaintance  with  the  Science  of  Zoology.  The  foregoing^ 
Outlines  of  the  Natural  History  of  the  Californias  must  there- 
fore be  considered  as  possessing  little  pretension  to  the  notice 
of  the  scientific  student,  but  only  as  a  part  of  the  general 
plan  of  the  author,  in  giving  a  brief  account  of  the  most 
striking  objects  which  offered  themselves  directly  to  his 
observation,  and  as  being  intended  merely  for  the  eye  of  the 
general  reader.  Indeed  it  would  be  an  useless  as  well  as  a 
presumptuous  task,  to  attempt  in  a  book  of  this  kind  an 
elaborate  description  of  the  natural  productions  of  the  Cali- 
fornias ;  and  the  more  so  in  regard  to  one  portion  at  least  of 
those  productions,  since  the  announcement  of  the  intended 
issue  of  a  work  which,  for  the  elegance  and  costliness  of  its 
design,  the  skill  and  research  displayed  in  its  contents,  and  the 
well-earned  celebrity  of  its  principal  author,  will  probably  be 
unsurpassed  by  any  similar  undertaking.  "  The  Viviparous 
Quadrupeds  of  North  America,"  now  in  course  of  publication, 
will  undoubtedly  add  a  crowning  laurel  to  the  already  well- 
adorned  brow  of  John  J.  Audubon. 

Fish. — There  are  perhaps  no  waters  in  the  world  so  produc- 
tive of  fish  as  those  of  the  Californias,  and  of  the  regions  still 
farther  to  the  north.  Immense  numbers,  and  every  variety  of 
sea  fish  swarm  in  the  Pacific  coast,  and  the  rivers  are  densely 
populated  with  several  valuable  species. 


TRAVELS      IN      THB      CALirO.RRIAS. 


397 


y 


The  Californian  Gulf  produces  also  great  numbers  of  edible 
shell-fish.    The  oyster,  the  pearl  shell,  an  account  of  the 
fishery  for  which  has  been  heretofore  given  j  the  muscle, 
several  species  of  haliotis,  all  afford  either  food  or  articles  of 
trade  and  ornament  to  the  inhabitants.    In  Upper  California 
fish  are  generally  little  sought  after,  the  productions  of  the 
earth  being  so  numerous  and  plentiful;   but  in  the  colder 
regions  of  the  north,  they  afford  the  common,  and  sometimes 
the  sole  subsistence  of  the  natives.     In  the  Columbia,  as  well 
as  in  the  San  Joaquim  and  Sacramento  rivers,  and  in  almost 
every  water  course  having  its  outlet  in  the  sea,  the  numbers  of 
Salmo  {Schouleri)y  Salmon,  are  almost  incredible.  On  some  of 
these  rivers  from  two  to  three  thousand  are  sometimes  taken 
in  a  single  day.    The  Indians  capture  them   with  a  kind  of 
wicker  basket,  similar  to  that  used  by  the  fishermen  on  the 
Atlantic  coast  for  taking  lobsters.    This  is  done  in  the  spring 
when  the  fish  are  on  their  passage  up  the  stream.    They  are 
also  taken  with  the  spear,  which  consists  of  a  sharp  piece  of 
bone  fastened  to  the  end  of  a  shaft  of  wood  twelve  or  fifteen 
feet  in  length,  and  which  the  Indians  use  with  great  dexterity, 
firequently  securing  salmon  of  from  twenty  to  thirty  pounds  in 
weight.    The  fish  are  dried  or  salted,  and  preserved  for  future 
use.     They  are  also  sometimes  taken  with  only  a  small  scoop 
net  fastened  to  the  end  of  a  pole.    Douglas  speaks  of  an  indi- 
vidual measured  by  him  which  was  three  feet  five  inches  long, 
and  ten  inches  broad,  weighing  thirty-five  pounds.    The  author 
can  vouch  for  the  fact  that  this  size  is  not  exaggerated,  hav- 
ing often  seen  specimens  nearly  or  quite  as  large.     Some  of 
the  streams  also  abound  with  very  fine  salmon  trout,  and  with 
a  small  trout  pearly  resembling  the  one  which  affords  so  much 
sport  to  the  anglers  of  the  United  States. 

Accipenser  transmontanus,  The  Sturgeon,  sometimes  attains 
great  3ize  in  the  large  rivers,  being  from  eight  to  ten  feet  in 
length,  and  weighing  nearly  500  pounds.  In  general,  how- 
ever, this  fish  is  of  much  smaller  dimensions.  It  is  principally 
found  not  far  from  the  mouths  of  the  rivers. 
34 


r 


J 


398 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


In  the  bay  of  Monterey  is  a  species  of  Mackerel,  Scom- 
ber  coliaSf  in  great  plenty  and  easily  taken.  Here,  as 
well  as  in  most  other  parts  of  the  coast,  also  swim  schools  of 
a  small  fish  resembling,  if  not  identical  with,  the  Sardine  of 
Italy,  familiar  to  epicures.  These  are  sometimes  seen  in 
such  immense  numbers  that  the  surface  of  the  water,  for  a 
great  distance  around,  resembles  a  living  mass,  being  kept  in 
constant  commotion  by  their  fins.  Porpoises  are  very  nume- 
rous in  almost  every  bay  on  the  whole  coast,  and  in  foul 
weather  may  always  be  seen  playing  their  pranks  on  the 
waves ;  while  far  in  the  offing  appears  the  spouting  of  the 
huge  whale. 

The  halibut,  pilchard^  skate,  turbot,  bonito,  and  many  other 
species,  are  found  in  various  parts  of  the  sea-coast.  The 
shell-fish  are  numerous  and  valuable,  particularly  in  the  Gulf. 
Of  these  may  be  mentioned.  Oysters,  which  are  often  of  large 
size  and  excellent  flavor,  muscles,  several  species  of  haliotis, 
patella,  cardium,  and  turbo,  besides  Mya  margaritifera,  the 
Pearl  Oyster,  the  product  of  which  as  an  article  of  commerce 
is  well  known.  The  pearls  produced  by  these  shell-fish  are, 
in  this  country,  of  very  fine  water,  though  rather  irregular  in 
figure.  The  manner  of  taking  this  valuable  article  of  trade 
has  been  fully  described  on  a  former  page. 

Plants. — The  Californias  ofier  a  very  interesting  and  but 
partially  explored  field  of  research  to  the  botanist.  Almost 
every  variety  of  vegetation,  from  the  luxuriant  productions  of 
the  tropics  to  the  stinted  and  scanty  growth  of  the  frozen 
regions,  may  be  found  in  this  country.  The  labors  of  Douglas 
and  others  have  made  known  to  the  world  many  of  the  most 
valuable  and  remarkable  species.  Of  these  it  is  possible  here 
to  mention  only  a  few.  Of  the  Pine  and  Oak  there  are  seve- 
ral noble  and  useful  varieties  in  different  parts  of  the  country. 
One  of  these,  Pinus  Douglasii,  first  described  by  Douglas,  is 
probably  the  grandest  of  the  whole  vegetable  kingdom.  It  is 
found  on  the  mountains  about  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  on 
the  highlands  near  the  upper  branches  of  the  .Colorado  river  j 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


399 


and  in  some  other  sections  of  Upper  California,  generally  on 
elevated  localities.  My  readers  must  not  think  of  Baron 
Munchausen,  when  I  offer  to  vouch  for  the  fact  that  sp(;citncns 
of  this  tree  occur  of  the  height  of  two  hundred  and  forty  feet, 
the  base  of  whose  trunks  have  a  circumference  of  nearly  sixty 
feet.  The  trunk  is  quite  destitute  of  branches  until  above 
more  than  half  the  altitude,  when  they  grow  outward  and  up- 
ward in  such  a  manner  as  to  give  the  top  the  form  of  an 
inverted  pyramid.  From  the  ends  of  the  branches  hang  the 
cones  or  seed-vessels,  from  twelve  to  fifteen  inches  in  length, 
and  egg-shaped.  The  seeds  are  as  large  as  a  good-sized 
bean,  and  furnish  a  common  article  of  food  to  the  Indians, 
who  collect  large  quantities  of  them  in  the  autumn,  and  pound 
them  into  a  kind  of  cake,  which  is  baked  on  heated  stones. 
The  wood  is  very  fine-grained,  and  contains  a  great  quantity 
of  resin. 

The  Pinvs  SaMnii,  P.  Lambertianaj  P.  nohiliSf  and  P. 
resinosa,  are  also  fine  species,  though  less  in  size  than  their 
gigantic  relative.  The  former  is,  however,  a  large  tree,  being 
often  found  one  hundred  and  ten  feet  high,  and  from  ten  to 
twelve  in  diameter.  Among  the  elevated  plains  6f  Upper 
California  it  grows  quite  plentifully,  as  also  on  the  low  hills, 
near  the  coast,  where  it  attains  a  larger  size.  The  natives 
frequently  "build  their  fires  against  these  trees  to  save  the 
trouble  of  collecting  fuel.  By  this  means,  also,  a  sweet 
gum  is  made  to  exude  from  the  trunk,  which  serves  them  for 
sugar. 

The  White  Oak  grows  on  the  low  and  level  parts  of  the 
country.  It  is  not  generally  a  large  tree,  being  from  forty  to 
fifty  feet  high,  and  from  two  to  three  feet  in  diameter  at  the 
base.  The  top  is  extremely  thick  and  leafy,  forming  an 
almost  impenetrable  mass  of  boughs.  It  is  in  some  places 
very  abundant. 

The  Quercus  navalis  occupies  the  prairies,  river  banks,  and 
lower  hills,  and  is  four  or  five  feet  in  diameter,  with  branches 
of  corresponding  dimensions  extending  horizontally  from  the 


*  . 


♦! 


J. 


400 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


trunk.  The  Live  Oak,  Q.  virensj  grows  only  on  the  high- 
lands. It  is  from  two  to  five  feet  in  thickness,  and  from  sixty 
to  seventy  in  height.  The  Maple,  the  Ash,  the  Beech,  the 
Chestnut,  in  several  varieties,  compose  large  portions  of  the 
forests. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  a  full  description  of  the  flower- 
ing shrubs  and  plants  of  Upper  California,  so  great  is 
their  variety  and  beauty.  We  have  only  space  to  notice  a 
few  of  the  most  conspicuous.  A  species  of  Raspberry,  Ribes 
speciosunif  is  one  of  the  most  elegant  flowering  shrubs  of  the 
country.  It  is  exceedingly  abundant  in  some  localities,  and, 
with  its  long  crimson  stamens  and  its  deep  green  leaves, 
presents  an  appearance  truly  lovely.  The  flowers  bloom 
early  in  spring.  The  fruit  I  have  not  seen.  In  many  places 
are  found  several  species  of  Mimultis,  one  of  which  is  from 
three  to  four  feet  in  height,  and  is  a  very  showy  plant.  This 
country  also  has  numerous  species  of  PfUox  and  Heuchera, 
and  innumerable  quantities  of  Ejnlohiumy  Enothera  or  Prim- 
rose, Penistemorij  Papaver  or  Poppy,  Delphinium,  and  Salvia. 
A  species  of  lily  also  grows  here,  the  roots  of  which  are 
eaten  by  the  natives.  The  Scilla  esculenta  grows  along  the 
■whole  coast  of  Upper  California.  This  is  called  by  the  na- 
tives "  Quamash"  and  the  root  forms  a  very  common  article 
of  food.  To  prepare  this  for  eating,  a  hole  is  made  in  the 
ground,  and  a  number  of  stones  placed  in  it,  on  which  a  Are 
is  kindled,  and  kept  burning  until  they  are  made  hot,  when 
the  fire  is  extinguished,  and  the  roots  wrapped  in  straw, 
leaves  and  moss,  are  placed  upon  them.  They  are  well 
roasted  in  a  few  hours ;  and  are  then  taken  off  and  hung  up 
to  dry.  This  root  is  also  sometimes  pounded  and  made  into 
cakes,  which  are  preserved  for  future  use.  The  taste  is  sweet, 
and  rather  agreeable ;  but  if  eaten  too  freely,  they  are  apt  to 
produce  diarrhoea.  This  plant  is  most  abundant  on  the  banks 
of  rivers  and  on  lowlands  by  the  margins  of  forests ;  in  which 
localities  are  also  found  several  species  oiPyrohf  Ca'prifolium, 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


401 


and  Lupinus,  which  sometimes  cover  an  immense  extent  of 
land.  The  Jlrhutus  is  also  abundant  in  similar  situations. 
The  large  species,  Jl.  procera,  is  a  fine  shrub,  frequently  at- 
taining a  growth  which  entitles  it  to  be  called  a  tree.  The 
J2.  uva  vrsi  is  found  in  almost  every  part  of  the  colder  sec- 
tions of  the  country,  and  its  berries  are  frequently  eaten  by 
the  natives,  and  even  by  travellers.  A  very  useful  plant  to 
the  natives  is  the  Ilelonias  tenax,  the  fibres  of  which  are 
stronger  than  any  hemp.  Cords  made  of  this  are  used  by  the 
Indians  for  the  purpose  of  snaring  deer  and  other  animals ; 
and  one  the  thickness  of  the  little  finger  is  so  strong  as  not 
to  be  broken  by  the  largest  elk. 

The  Gooseberry  grows  in  Upper  California,  and  bears  plen- 
tifully. The  sand-hills  and  moors  are  covered  with  a  great 
variety  of  Syngenesious  plants,  and  on  the  more  fertile  and 
humid  soil  grows  a  gaudy-flowered  Currant-bush  and  a  pretty 
species  of  Honeysuckle.  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  shrub 
here  is  the  Yedra,  a  poisonous  plant,  which,  however,  affects 
some  particular  constitutions  only.  By  contact  with  the  skin, 
it  produces  tumors  and  violent  inflammation.  It  is  a  slender 
shrub,  preferring  cool  and  shady  places,  and  bearing  a  trefoil 
crenated  leaf.  Two  roots — the  plants  of  which  I  have  not 
seen — are  used  by  the  natives  for  soap :  these  are  called 
Amole  and  Samate.  On  the  rocky  coast  south  of  Monterey 
are  immense  collections  of  sea-weed — Fucus  pyrifomis — 
which  are  said  to  have  gathered  there  in  such  abundance,  as 
to  have  saved  several  vessels  from  splitting  on  the  rocks,  when 
driven  on  them  by  the  tempest. 

Minerals. — The  mineral  wealth  of  the  Californias  has 
not  been  examined  by  persons  capable  of  forming  a  correct 
idea  of  its  nature  and  extent.  The  imperfect  observations  of 
travellers,  embellished  by  the  eager  love  of  the  precious 
metals,  are  not  to  be  relied  on.  Some  facts,  however,  exist, 
which,  having  been  well  and  often  observed,  may  be  men- 
tioned. 

34* 


402 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACiriC. 


A  very  fine  article  of  bituminous  coal  has  been  discovered 
in  the  neighborhood  of  San  Francisco ;  and  indications  of  its 
existence  in  other  parts  of  the  country,  are  numerous  and 
well  marked. 

A  quicksilver  mine  is  said  to  exist  near  the  mountains  east 
of  Monterey,  which,  if  we  may  believe  report,  is  the  richest 
in  the  world. 

A  silver  mine  has  been  discovered  a  short  distance  from  Mon- 
terey. This  affords  a  very  rich  ore,  and  easily  wrought.  The 
author  saw  spoons  and  other  articles  made  of  the  products  of 
this  mine.  There  is  a  gold  mine  situate  near  the  Pueblo  de 
los  Angeles,  which  is  very  rich.  The  ore  was  tested  by  my 
friend  Doctor  Lyman,  and  was  found  to  yield  more  than 
ninety  per  cent.  The  inhabitants  have  observed  very  exten- 
sive  veins  of  gold  in  the  vicinity  of  the  bay  of  San  Francisco, 
and  indeed  in  many  other  parts  of  this  beautiful  land.  In 
Lower  California,  there  are  several  mines,  which  the  people 
are  working  in  a  rude  way,  but  with  considerable  profit. 
Virgin  silver  and  gold  are  often  found  in  considerable  quanti- 
ties. No  doubt  is  entertained  bv  those  best  acquainted  with 
the  Californias,  that  they  will  become,  when  science  shall  be 
applied  in  the  development  of  their  wealth,  one  of  the  richest 
mineral  provinces  of  America.  This  belief  is  much  strength- 
ened by  the  fact,  that  the  Indians,  whenever  they  choose,  can 
bring  into  the  settlements  large  quantities  of  these  ores,  which 
they  either  find  on  the  surface,  or  pry  from  the  crevices  of  the 
rocks  with  sharpened  sticks,  bones,  or  hunting  knives.  They 
cannot  be  induced  to  show  the  whites  where  they  obtain 
these,  on  account  of  an  old  traditional  superstition,  that  if 
they  should  do  so,  they  w  ould  immediately  die. 

Down  the  Coast. — On  the  fifth  of  May,  1840,  we  made 
our  adieus  to  our  acquaintance  in  Santa  Barbara,  preparatory 
to  falling  down  the  coast.  The  American  visited  the  sick 
Englishman,  found  him  breathing  faintly,  and  apparently  very 
near  death.  But  it  was  necessary  to  embark,  and  leave  the 
dying  man  in  the  kind  care  of  his  nurses,  who,  I  have  no 


TRAVELS      IN      TIIK      CALIFORNIA  8. 


403 


doubt,  administered  to  his  last  want,  and  made  his  gravo-dresB 
with  willing  hands.  "  Dead — starved  to  death  !  Death  of  a 
Briton  from  thirst  and  starvation,  by  direction  of  Juan  Bap- 
tista  Alvarado,  Governor  of  Upper  California,"  is  the  account 
which  truth  will  give,  on  earth  and  at  the  judgment,  of  this 
man's  death. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  the  lusty  fellows  at  the  windlass  had  t-he 
anchor  on  the  bow,  and  our  good  old  ship  was  bearing  down 
the  coast  under  a  fine  northerly  breeze.  She,  or  rather  he, 
for  I  believe  all  Dons  are  males,  and  particularly  Don  Quix- 
otes, being  in  ballast,  ran  rapidly,  cheeringly,  and  exultingly 
over  the  quiet  sea.  And  right  glad  were  we  to  be  under 
weigh.  We  had  been  long  enough  among  the  jolly  birds 
and  flowering  meadows  of  California,  to  rejoice  to  be  again 
at  sea.  It  was  sad,  however,  to  be  borne  away  from  the 
prisons  and  the  moans  of  our  fellow-countrymen.  And  now 
the  deep  blue  sea — its  mermaid  song — its  anthems  of  sub- 
limity— its  glories  and  beauties ;  really  and  in  truth,  what  are 
they  ?  What  man  in  his  senses  loves  the  Ocean  1  The  mer- 
maids are  all  porpoises,  and  their  songs  all  grunts!  The 
deep  sounds  of  the  ocean's  pealing  organ,  are  the  rude  groans 
of  the  winds  and  the  dashing  rage  of  far-rolling  surges,  rap- 
ping madly  at  the  bows !  The  tufts  of  dancing  foam  on  the 
bitter  wastes — desert,  heavin^ifi  unsympathizing,  cold,  home- 
less !  Love  of  Ocean ! !  Poetiy  of  Ocean ! !  It  is  a  pity  I 
cannot  love  it — see  in  its  deep  still  lower  realm,  or  in  its 
lonely  tumults,  or  its  surface  wheir  the  air  is  still,  its  heat, 
thirst  and  death,  its  vast  palpitating  tomb,  the  shady  hand 
and  veiled  smile  of  loveliness ! — that  I  cannot  believe  Old 
Ocean  has  a  heart,  which  sends  its  kindly  beatings  up  and 
down  all  the  shores  of  earth !  Poetry  !  Loveliness !  They 
may  be  there ;  but  Ocean's  odor  and  mien  are  not  poetry  to 
me !  If  I  have  ever  said  anything  to  the  contrary,  I  beg  the 
pardon  of  the  sea  poets.  There  is,  however,  a  certain  class 
of  beings  who  hold  a  very  different  opinion  :  these  are  the 
regular  old  Salts  ;  men  who  from  boyhood  have  slept  in  the 


i 


404 


SCENES       IN       THE       PACIFIC, 


forecastle,  eaten  at  the  windlass,  sung  at  the  halyards,  danced 
on  the  yards  to  the  music  of  the  tempest,  and  hailed  the  tu- 
mult of  the  seas  as  a  frolic  in  which  they  had  a  joyful  part. 
We  respect  these  poets.  Indeed,  the  Ocean  to  them  is  a 
world,  the  theatre  of  their  being ;  and  by  inhabiting  it  all 
their  days,  these  singular  men  become  changed  from  partici- 
pants in  the  delights  of  natural  life  on  land,  to  creatures  of 
memory.  Memory  !  that  mental  action  which  sifts  the  past 
of  its  bitterest  evils,  and  gives  only  the  blossom  and  the  fruit 
to  after-time.  These  the}'  enjoy  in  the  midnight  watch,  at  the 
dawn,  in  the  storm,  the  calm,  and  in  visions  of  sleep  j  but  for 
ever  upon  the  deep,  on  the  great  expanse  of  the  Sea  !  Is  it 
wonderful,  then,  that  they  should  love  it  ?  that  their  atfecteons 
become  poetry  1  See  them  seated  at  their  meal  before  the 
mast ;  their  wide  pants  lap  over  their  sprawled  limbs ;  the 
red  flannel  shirt  peers  out  at  the  wrists,  and  blazes  over  their 
broad  chests  between  the  ample  dimensions  of  the  heavy  pea- 
jacke*. ;  and  crowning  all  is  the  tarpaulin  with  its  streaming 
band,  cocked  on  one  side  of  the  head ;  and  grouped  in  the 
most  approved  style  of  a  thoroughly  lazy  independence,  they 
eat  their  meal.  At  such  times,  if  the  weather  be  fine,  stud- 
ding-sails out,  and  top-gallants  pulhng,  they  speak  of  the 
ship  as  a  lady,  well  decked,  and  of  beautiful  bearing,  ghding 
like  a  nymph  through  the  gurpjling  waters.  If  the  breeze  be 
strong,  and  drives  her  down  on  her  beams,  they  speak  of  her 
as  bowing  to  her  Lord  and  Master,  while  she  uses  his  might 
to  bear  her  on  to  her  own  purposes.  And  if  the  tempest 
weighs  on  the  sea,  and  the  fierce  winds  '>owl  down  upon  her 
dead  ahead,  and  the  storm-sail  displays  over  the  fore-chains 
its  three-sided  form,  and  the  ship  lays  up  to  the  raging  ele- 
ments, breasting  every  swoop  of  wavciiaid  blast,  she  still  is  a 
lady,  coming  forth  from  aer  empire  of  dependent  loveliness 
to  bow  before  an  irresistible  force,  only  to  rise  again,  and 
present  the  Fceptre  of  Hope  to  dismayed  man.  These  Salts 
believe  in  the  poetry  of  the  sea,  and  of  the  noble  structures  in 


T  B  A^V  ELS 


IN      THE      CALIFORNIAS. 


405 


;  be 
her 
iight 
Ipest 
her 
^ains 
lele- 
is  a 
Iness 
land 
Mts 
is  in 


which  they  traverse  its  pathless  immensity.     And  it  may  be 
that  they  are  right,  and  I  am  wrong. 

During  the  day  we  passed  near  to  the  coast.  A  fruitful 
strip  of  land  running  along  the  shore ;  broken  by  hills  in- 
creasing in  height  from  the  water-side  towards  the  interior, 
and  bounded  by  high  mountains  partially  covered  with  trees, 
but  generally  burnt  and  barren,  is  a  true  showing  of  that 
part  of  California.  It  was  a  bright  day,  with  a  coo)  whole- 
some air.  Every  sail  was  out  and  fdled,  as  white  as  snow, 
the  wind  on  the  larboard  quarter,  the  crew  lounging,  and  the 
dolphins  chasing,  and  the  gulls  screaming,  and  the  spraj' 
dashing  at  the  bows.  Home,  and  the  mother  of  my  buried 
boy,  if  J.  may  speak  of  myself,  the  heart's  guiding  star  on 
those  wastes  of  soul  and  of  nature,  wore  drawing  near  me, 
and  in  thought  were  there.  Speed  on,  noble  ship,  speed  on  ; 
it  is  the  illusion  of  happy  memories,  speed  on ! 

On  the  sixth  and  seventh  the  breeze  continued  favorable. 
The  coast  was  generally  in  sight,  and  app-^ared  to  be  more 
and  more  barren  as  we  followed  it  down  ! 

On  the  eighth  we  sailed  along  the  east  side  of  Guadeloupe. 
This  island  is  abual  thirty  miles  in  circumference,  somewhat 
mountainous,  evidently  of  volcanic  origin,  surrounded  by  im- 
mense reefs  of  black  rocks,  and  destitute  of  coral  formations. 
There  are  <wo  places  of  access,  the  one  on  the  southwest,  the 
other  on  the  northwest  side.  It  has  no  harbor  for  anything  else 
than  small  boats;  and  though  containing  considerable  quantities 
of  araWe  land,  is  uninhabited  except  by  sea  birds,  turtles  and 
goats.  The  latter  are  the  offspring  of  a  few  of  these  animals 
landed  upon  it  by  the  early  Spanish  navigators.  They  have 
been  in  unmolested  possession  6f  the  island  for  the  last  eighty 
ye^rs,  and  are  now  so  very  numerous,  that  they  could  be  profita- 
Liy  hunted  for  their  skins  and  tallow.  In  former  times  this  island 
used  to  abound  in  sea  elephants  and  hair  seal ;  but  the  Ame- 
rican hunters  and  whalers  have  nearly  destroyed,  them.  As 
we  passed,  a  right  whale  spouted  near  the  shore.    The  cir- 


406 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


cumstance  electrified  Tom,  and  opened  his  word  loom  to  the 
following  yarn. 

"  The  lubber,  that  whale  !  I  would  like  to  be  in  the  bow 
of  a  staunch  boat,  with  four  stout  oarsmen,  and  a  bold  fellow 
to  steer  upon  him ;  I  would  soon  make  him  spout  blood  in- 
stead of  water ! 

*  I  was  telling  you  the  yarn  of  my  becoming  a  sailor,  when 
the  old  man  coiled  up  my  thoughts  among  the  halyards. 
Now  that  whale  brings  them  back  again,  and  while  he  is 
taking  his  observation,  and  blowing  his  nose,  I'll  finish  my  yarn. 
I  was  about  nineteen  when  I  blundered  against  the  capstan 
of  a  whaler,  and  shipped  at  New  Bedford  for  a  three  years' 
cruise.  We  left  port  with  as  good  an  outfit  of  harpoons,  lines, 
knives,  trying-pans,  stores,  and  ship's  crew  as  ever  swam  the 
brine.  I  remember  we  had  a  studdin-sail  breeze  a  longer 
time  on  our  passage  out,  than  I  ever  saw  before  or  since,  ex- 
cept in  the  trades.  We  put  out  all  sail  in  sight  of  th";  New- 
Bedford  Light,  and  never  took  in  a  rag  until  we  had  c  '  ''•-■ 
the  rjquator ;  and  then  we  struck  a  dead  calm,  which  conti- 
nued fifteen  days.  That  was  the  worst  siege  at  oakum  and 
spun  yarn  that  Tom  ever  saw.  The  sun  seemed  to  pour 
down  fire !  It  was  so  warm  that  the  tar  in  the  deck  fried 
and  bubbled ;  and  the  old  long  boat  shrunk  so  m-  'i  that  you 
could  stick  your  thumb  airough  between  the  planks ;  and  the 
decks  were  so  hot  that  we  were  obliged  to  keep  them  con- 
stantly wet  to  enable  us  to  stand  on  them.  And  as  to  breath- 
ing, we  found  that  the  hardest  work  of  all.  The  great 
atmosphere  seemed  to  have  escaped,  and  left  a  perfect  void  ! 
The  ocean  was  smooth ;  not  a  rough  spot  upon  it  as  big  as  a 
cent,  except  when  the  cook  threw  his  slush  overboard !  It 
lay  and  rolled  like  a  bending  sea  of  glass !  The  vessel,  with 
its  sails  hanging  loose  on  the  mast,  rose  and  fell  on  it  like  a 
sheet  upon  the  breast  of  the  dying.  The  sky  w?"  wfully 
Ldre  and  deserted  !  Not  a  shred  of  a  cloud  dotted  it  for  fif- 
teen days  !  I  never  felt  lonesome  till  that  time.  I  had  rather 
lay  to  under  storm  sail  a  twelvemonth,  than  be  compelled  to 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


407 


a 
It 


if- 

er 
to 


I  !' 


pick  oakum  and  make  spun  yarn,  and  think  through  a  calm 
like  that.  Well,  at  the  end  of  fifteen  days,  just  as  the  sun 
set,  a  little  cloud  about  as  large  as  John's  tarpaulin,  scud  up 
in  the  nor'west,  like  an  angel  of  mercy  to  tell  us  there  was 
wind  once  more  in  the  heavens ;  and  about  eight  o'clock  the 
old  ocean  began  to  stir ;  the  air  struck  our  parched  bodies, 
and  the  sails  flapped,  the  vessel  moved,  and  we  began  to  feel 
that  we  were  climbing  out  of  a  great  hot  grave ;  I  never  shall 
forget  that  calm. 

"  Well,  we  had  light  breezes  till  we  got  off  Montevideo, 
when  a  stiff  norther  came  on,  which  bore  us  on  under  double- 
reefed  topsails  down  to  the  Cape.  Here  i^  came  on  to  blow 
a  gale,  and  we  were  obliged  to  run  into  Magellan,  and  lay 
to  under  the  lee  of  the  highlands.  After  lying  there  two 
days,  the  wind  chopped  round  northeast,  and  the  old  man 
thought  we  might  as  well  run  through  the  Straits.  But  the 
gale  was  renewed,  and  rushed  overland  upon  us  with  such 
fury  that  we  could  carry  for  a  number  of  days,  only  sail 
enough  to  make  the  ship  lay  her  course.  At  last  we  hove  in 
sight  of  the  Pacific,  and  run  afoul  one  of  those  villainous  head 
winds  which  you  know  often  set  into  the  west  end  of  the 
Straits.  This  detained  us  nine  days.  At  the  end  of  this  time, 
it  hauled  into  the  northeast,  and  enabled  us  to  get  into  the 
open  sea.  Our  course  from  the  Straits  was  NW.  But  the 
wind  again  chopped  round  dead  ahead  ;  consequently  all  we 
could  do  was  to  try  to  hold  our  own.  W^e  accordingly  beat 
off  and  on,  and  lay  to  twelve  days,  when  we  found  we  must 
up  helm  and  let  her  ru.:  The  gale  was  a\  1 ;  and  as  we 
advanced  south,  the  raggedness  of  the  sea  was  continually 
more  and  more  frightful ;  the  cold  became  intense  j  the  water 
froze  upon  the  deck  six  inches  deep ;  and  the  spars,  and  masts, 
and  rigging  were  covered  with  ice  to  such  an  extent,  that  the 
ship  swayed  under  the  gale,  and  was  likely  to  swamp ;  the 
most  like  a  death-call  from  the  mermaids  that  Tom  ever  saw, 
was  that  gale.  The  ship  lurching  her  sparr.  into  the  waves, 
the  sailors  slipping,  the  rigging  stiff,  and  the  only  sail  set, 


408 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


covered  with  ice  several  inches  thick  j  the  masts  like  vast 
icicles,  and  the  old  man  and  every  man  expecting  every  mo- 
ment to  go  down !  After  drifting,  however,  as  far  as  70*^ 
South,  the  gale  abated,  the  wind  changed,  we  cut  away  the 
studding-sail,  rigged  another,  and  stood  away  for  the  north, 
and  in  a  few  days  got  rid  of  our  ice  and  other  troubles.  We 
now  took  our  course  for  New  Zealand,  and  about  300  miles 
east  of  that  island  fell  in  with  the  whales  I  thought  of,  as 

we" .  "  Bear  a  hand  there,  you  lubbers."   "  Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"  Bring  out  the  old  trysail,  and  run  your  yarns  into  that." 
"  Aye,  aye,  sir."  And  thus  was  Tom's  yarn  again  severed, 
much  to  his  chagrin,  and  my  regret ;  for  I  longed  to  hear  a 
whalesman's  account  of  his  bold  and  dangerous  calling. 

On  the  10th  of  May  we  came  in  sight  of  Cape  Saa  Lucas, 
bearing  thirty  miles  SE.  It  was  about  five  o'clock,  P.  M. 
The  wiru'  had  been  dying  away  since  noon,  and  now  barely 
kept  the  . !  oving.     The  western  portion  of  the  sea  was 

all  light  anci  ^  irious  j  it  lay  panting,  as  a  wearied  giant  just 
returned  from  the  field  of  conflict.  The  sun,  as  he  fell  stea- 
dily down  the  great  arc  of  heaven,  was  reflected  more  and 
more  widely  and  intensely,  until  his  reddest  rays  shot  through 
the  clear  tops  of  the  billows,  and  scattered  a  purple  drapery 
of  clouds  sprinkled  with  gold  up  half  the  western  sky.  Gay- 
plumaged  land  birds  gathered  on  the  rigging,  and  twittered 
and  sang  to  the  approaching  twilight.  The  land  was  eight 
miles  from  us ;  a  rough  red  waste  of  mountains !  those  holy 
desolations  where  the  Indians'  God  made  his  descent  to  bless 
them,  their  streams,  their  fruits,  and  give  elasticity  to  their 
bows.  Sturdy  scenes !  rocks  on  rocks,  gloom  on  Hoom,  sand 
on  sand,  and  dearth  feeding  dearth,  and  universal  thirst  prey- 
ing on  animal  and  herb !  The  living  things  in  the  sea  fro- 
licked around  us.  Tlie  dolphin,  the  bonitos,  the  flying  fish, 
the  porpoise,  the  right  whale,  were  all  employing  their 
muscles  in  their  own  way  among  the  sleeping  waters ;  and 
about  the  sides  of  the  almost  motionless  vessel  swarmed  shoals 
of  bright  and  active  little  fish  that  seemed  to  beseech  us  for 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


409 


protection  and  food.  As  the  sun's  disc  sank  below  the  hori- 
zon, and  he  withdrew  his  last  rays  from  the  mists  of  the  sea, 
and  left  the  stars  to  their  own  twinkling,  the  mellow  clear 
blue  of  a  tropical  sky  came  out  over  us;  such  a  sky  as  hangs 
over  Athens  and  the  Egean  tides  and  islands.  This  was  re- 
flected back  from  the  waves,  on  which  the  stars  danced  and 
flickered,  were  extinguished  and  lighted  up  again,  as  swell 
after  swell  approached  the  ship,  and  rocked,  as  does  the 
heart  of  the  mother  the  child  slumbering  on  her  breast.  The 
moon  was  in  the  first  quarter,  rounding  to  the  full.  And  I 
remember  never  to  have  felt  so  strong  a  sympathy  with  it  as 
on  that  glorious  night.  If  dreams  come  when  reason  sleeps, 
and  recollection  serves  only  to  feed  the  afTections,  and  deepen 
the  musings  of  the  imagination  and  associating  powers,  I  cer- 
tainly dreamed  with  eyes  on  the  moon  and  stars  and  the  sea 
of  that  night.  The  day  had  gone  ;  it  was  night ;  the  stars 
were  out,  and  the  sea  was  dancing  to  the  music  of  the  fap 
distant  and  ceased  tempest,  and  the  moon  had  come  over  my 
home,  was  shining  through  its  windows  upon  the  table  at 
which  we  ate,  on  the  chairs  in  which  we  sat,  on  the  walls 
that  had  witnessed  the  high  and  unmarred  pleasures  of  the 
domestic  affections.  It  was  lighting  up  the  altar  of  my  holiest 
hopes,  and  crowding  upon  it  every  gem  of  joy  which  had 
shone  on  the  path  of  the  past !  A  bird  chirped  among  the 
rigging  a  note  which  resembled  one  tli.it  had  gladdened  even- 
ing walks,  and  often  died  in  the  ear  as  in  the  opening  spring 
sleep  was  gathering  us  to  rest ;  and  that  chosen  star,  that  con- 
secrated star,  that  star  on  which  we  hung  our  vows  at  parting, 
was  looking  down  upon  me  !  I  walked  forward  among  the 
watch,  who  were  loitering  about  the  forecastle  in  silence. 
"  A  fine  night  this,  sir,"  said  one  of  them,  "  a  fine  night,  sir. 
This  weather  reminds  one  of  our  New  England  Indian  sum- 
mers, when  I  used  to  go  out  of  an  evening  to  a  country  dance, 
and  throw  clubs  into  the  trees  to  get  the  finest  apples  for  the 
neighboring  girls.  I  recollect  that  I'lost  my  heart  on  just 
such  a  night  as  this,  when  about  twelve  years  old !  I  went 
35 


410 


Scenes'   in    the    pacific, 


over  to  neighbor  Parker's  to  invite  them  to  a  husking,  and 

the  old  gentleman  insisted,  after  I  had  done  my  errand,  that 

I  should  stay  awhile  and  help  John  shell  a  grist  of  yellow 

corn  ;  for  he  wanted  to  go  to  mill  at  sunrise  next  morning. 

So  down  I  sat  on  a  little  wooden  bench  at  one  end  of  the 

warming-pan  handle,  which  was  put  through  the  ears  of  a 

wash-tub,  and  shelled  away  bravely.    But  all  the  time  I  was 

at  work,  Rachel  was  pulling  my  ears,  and  throwing  kernels 

of  corn  at  me,  and  showing  her  white  teeth  and  sweet  lips 

and  eyes  around  me,  until  my  ears  and  cheeks  burnt,  my  eyes 

were  swimming  with  love,  and  my  head  and  heart  felt  so 

mixed  up  together  that  they  have  never  got  unravelled  since." 

Another  one  said  that  these  yarns  about  love  were  always 

coming  up  around  the  windlass,  and  he  hoped  they  would  be 

hauled  in,  and  stowed  away  soon,  for  it  was  quite  enough  to 

remember  one's  girl  and  poor  old  mother  thousands  of  miles 

away  when  obliged  to ;  and  that  this  way  of  bringing  them 

into  every  w^atch,  and  harrowing  up  one's  feelings,  was  worse 

than  being  strung  up  at  the  yardarm  every  twelve  hours :  as 

he  said  this,  he  turned  away,  and  wiped  his  moist  cheek  on  the 

sleeve  of  his  pea-jacket. 

On  the  11th,  we  lay  along  the  Cape.  The  contour  of 
the  land  was  distinctly  visible.  The  mountains  rise  in  arid 
grandeur,  rough  volcanic  cinders,  red  and  desolate.  They 
are  curiously  piled.  Huge  mountains  sprout  from  the  main 
masses,  and  Kang  over  wooded  jungles  a  thousand  feet  bo'ow. 
Turrets  rise  on  turrets  like  giant  castles  of  an  olden  land 
They  are  an  irregular,  unstratified,  ugly,  desolate  confusion 
of  rocks  and  dust.  On  the  12th,  we  lay  six  miles  SE.  of  the 
point  of  the  Cape.  We  had  a  fine  view  of  both  shores  of 
the  Gulf  of  California  for  fifty  miles.  The  scenery  was  ex- 
tremely interesting.  The  eastern  Cape  shore  was  much  like 
the  western.  The  eastern  shore  of  the  Gulf,  the  edge  of  the 
Mexican  main,  was  sublime.  Not  so  much  so  on  account  of 
its  massiveness  or  its  altitude,  as  its  resemblance  to  a  conti- 


(       V 


TRAVELS      IN      THB      CALIFORNIA  S. 


411 


The 


nent  of  continuous  cities,  interspersed  with  groves, 
general  aspect  was  dreary. 

On  the  13th,  a  light  breeze  from  the  south  bore  us  along 
about  three  knots  the  hour.  The  Gulf  shores  opened  wider 
as  we  advanced.  High  mountains  rose  on  the  main  in  the  NE. 
The  coasts  of  the  Gulf  are  said  to  be  mountainous  up  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Colorado  of  the  West. 

In  the  evening  the  mountains  on  the  Mexican  side  were 
lighted  up  with  immense  fires — some  of  them  resembled  those 
of  volcanoes ;  others,  the  raging  flames  among  the  firs  and 
pines  of  the  Green  Mountains ;  others,  the  deep  glow  of  the 
log  heaps  of  the  American  fallows. 

On  the  fourteenth  we  sailed  pcross  the  mouth  of  the  Cali- 
fornian  Gulf  or  sea  of  Cortes,  and  at  night-fall  lay  in  full  view 
of  the  rocky  islands  around  the  anchorage  of  Mazatlan.  Cape 
San  Lucas  had  faded  away  in  the  northern  horizon  near  sun- 
set, and  I  confess  I  regretted  to  know  that  I  should  probably 
see  its  hills  and  plains  no  more ;  but  a  reflection  upon  the  des- 
tiny of  the  Californias  took  the  place  of  such  sorrow.  That 
country  must  become  a  constituent  member  in  the  great  broth- 
erhood of  American  Nations.  As  a  maritime  country  it  is 
unequalled  on  the  western  coast  of  America  ;  indeed  I  should 
say,  it  is  not  approached  in  this  respect  by  any  country  border- 
ing on  the  Pacific  seas. 

The  harbors  of  San  Quintin  in  Latitude  30^  23'  N.,  San 
Diego  in  Latitude  33°  N.,  and  San  Francisco  in  Latitude  37^ 
N.,  afford  secure  anchorage  for  the  navies  of  the  civilized 
world,  and  every  desirable  facility  for  erecting  wharves,  docks 
and  arsenals.  These  indenting  a  country  capable  of  sustain- 
ing thirty-five  millions  of  people,  with  the  healthiest  climate 
on  the  continent,  affording  abundance  of  live  oak  and  other 
materials,  without  stint,  for  the  construction  and  rigging  of 
vessels,  and  a  rich  soil  bearing  on  the  same  acre  the  fruits  of 
the  tropical  and  the  temperate  zones ;  with  the  greatest  possi- 
ble facilities  for  commercial  intercourse  with  the  eastern  shores 
of  the  Russian  Empire,  China,  India,  Australia,  and  the  Ha- 


412 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


waiian,  and  other  Islands  of  the  Pacific,  as  well  as  the  whole 
western  coast  of  America,  indicate  the  Californias  as  the  scat 
of  the  ruling  maritime  power  of  that  half  of  the  world. 

But  there  are  other  reasons  for  this  opinion.  A  canal  can 
easily  be  cut  from  the  head  of  steamboat  navigation  on  the 
San  Joaquim  to  the  head  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  California. 
This,  for  warlike  and  commercial  purposes,  would  be  invalua- 
ble. 

Another  circumstance,  however,  is  of  more  value  than  any 
I  have  named  in  forming  an  estimate  of  the  undeveloped 
greatness  of  this  charming  country.  It  is  the  intellectual  and 
physical  might  of  the  people  who  are  to  inhabit  it. 

In  order  to  indicate  what  race  this  is  to  be,  we  need  only 
refer  to  the  facts,  that  the  navigable  waters  of  the  Missouri 
River  are  within  six  hundred  miles  of  Puget's  Sound  :  that  a 
railroad  of  that  length  will  send  the  commerce  of  the  Indies, 
China,  and  the  Californias  into  the  Mississippi  valley,  and  send 
the  inhabitants  of  that  valley  to  the  Californias ;  and  that 
Nature  herself  has  connected  that  country  with  the  States  by 
an  excellent  natural  road. 

This  route  from  the  San  Joaquira  to  the  plains  of  the  Mis- 
souri is  not  only  feasible  hut  easy.  A  Mr.  Yunt,  from  Frank- 
lin, in  the  State  of  Missouri,  and  now  a  resident  of  Upper 
California,  travelled  from  the  Great  Salt  Lake  to  Monterey 
with  loaded  mules  in  thirty  days.  From  this  lake  to  the  navi- 
gable waters  of  the  San  Joaquim  is  not  more  thaij  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles,  with  plenty  of  wood,  water  and  grass  the 
whole  distance.  The  high  range  of  mountains  between  the 
San  Joaquim  and  Mary's  river  can  be  passed  in  six  hours. 
There  is  a  low  gap,  pathway  leading  through  it.  The  route 
from  this  gap  leads  up  Mary's  river  to  the  forks ;  thence  up 
the  east  fork,  and  over  the  plains,  to  the  Pont  Neuf  branch  of 
the  Saptin ;  thence  through  a  gap  in  the  mountains  to  Big 
Bear  river  at  the  Soda  Springs  ;  thence  up  Bear  river  and 
over  the  plains  to  the  Rendezvous  on  the  Sheetskadee  ;  thence 
over  the  plains  to  the  Sweetwater  branch  of  the  north  fork  of 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


413 


Great  Platte  ;  thence  down  that  river  to  its  entrance  into  the 
Missouri. 

Along  this  track  population  must  go  westward.     No  one 
acquainted  with  the  indolent,  mixed  race  of  California,  will 
ever  believe  that  they  will  populate,  much  less,  for  any  length 
of  time,  govern  the  country.   The  law  of  Nature  which  curses 
the  mulatto  here  with  a  constitution  less  robust  than  that  of 
either  race  from  which  he  sprang,  lays  a  similar  penalty  upon 
the  mingling  of  the  Indian  and  white  races  in  California  and 
Mexico.  They  must  fade  away ;    while  the  mixing  of  different 
branches  of  the  Caucasian  family  in  the  States  will  continue 
to  produce  a  race  of  men,  who  will  enlarge  from  period  to  pe- 
riod the  field  of  their  industry  and  civil  domination,  until  not 
only  the  Northern  States  of  Mexico,  but  the  Californias  also, 
will  open  their  glebe  to  the  pressure  of  its  unconquered  arm. 
The  old  Saxon  blood  must  stride  the  continent,  must  command 
all  its  northern  shores,  must  here  press  the  grape  and  the  olive, 
here  eat  the  orange  and  fig,  and  in  their  own  unaided  might, 
erect  the  altar  of  civil  and  religious  freedom  on  the  plains  of 
the  Californias. 

Mazatlan  ;  we  anchored  in  the  roads,  and  having  passed  a 
day  and  two  nights  with  Mr.  Parrot,  our  worthy  consul,  and 
another  American  who  was  addicted  to  aristocracy  and  smug- 
gling, we  bade  adieu  to  Captain  Paty  and  his  Don  Quixote, 
to  Messrs.  Johnson  and  Chamberlain,  and  sailed  for  San  Bias 
in  the  schooner  Gertrudes,  formerly  the  Honduras  of  the 
Hawaiian  Isles.  On  the  sixteenth  we  anchored  along  side  the 
prison-ship  in  the  roads  of  San  Bias,  and  had  the  pleasure  of 
knowing  that  none  of  our  countrymen  had  perished  on  the 
passage.  They  had  suffered  greatly  from  thirst  and  hunger ; 
but  they  lived  ;  and  that  to  us  and  to  them  was  cause  of  the 
deepest  graiitude.  Forty-six  Americans  and  Britons  in 
chains! — in  the  chains  of  Californian  Spar.ards  !  Will  not 
the  day  come  when  vengeance  will  be  repaid  ? 

During  the  afternoon  and  the  night  following  day  we  rode 
sixty  miles  to  the  city  of  Tepic,  and  laid  the  case  of  these  pris- 


35 


r.* 


r 


414 


SCENES      IN      THE      PACIFIC. 


oners  before  the  American  and  British  consuls,  who  rendered 
them  all  the  aid  and  protection  which  their  situation  required. 
They  were,  however,  again  tried  and  condemned  to  perpetual 
imprisonment  upon  an  island  in  a  mountain  lake  of  Mexico. 
But  Mr.  Consul  Barron — a  nobler  man  never  lived — saved 
them.  Graham  returned  to  California  a  broken-spirited,  ruin- 
ed man.  The  others  are  dispersed  elsewhere.  Our  Govern- 
ment HAS  NEVER  AVENGED  THEIR  WRONGS  ! 

After  tarrying  a  week  at  Tcpic,  we  took  leave  of  the  gene- 
rous spirits  who  had  succored  the  unfortunate  men  that  had 
suiTercd  under  the  tyranny  of  Californian  misrule,  and  mounted 
our  mules  on  a  journey  across  what  is  called  the  Republic  of 
Mexico.     Our  first  point  of  destination  was  Guadalaxara. 
The  country  between  these  two  cities  was  found  very  uneven, 
and  generally  sterile ;  not  one  twentieth  of  it  being  susceptible 
of  cultivation.     The  general  aspect  of  the  soil  is  that  of  a 
reddish  dust,  encumbered  with  volcanic  rocks ;  and  the  whole 
broken  at  intervals  with  mountain  peaks,  dry  river  beds,  and 
craters  of  extinct  volcanoes,  usually  sunken  far  below  the 
general  surface  of  the  country.     Guadalaxara  is  a  town  of 
about  seventy  thousand  souls — I  believe  I  am  right  in  sug- 
gesting that  its  inhabitants  have  souls.     At  all  events,  they 
support  priests  enough  to  warrant  a  presumption  to  that  effect. 
The  whole  city  swarms  with  the  scoundrels.     This  latter  term 
is  particularly  applicable  to  those  of  them  who  forget  their 
vows  of  chastity,  and  raise  large  families  of  illegitimate  chil- 
dren.   I  understood  there  were  some  that  did  not  practise  this 
mode  of  social  life  j  but  did  not  see  them.     From  Guadalax- 
ara we  travelled  to  Queretero.     The  country  between  these 
places  is  quite  similar  to  that  between  Tepic  and  Gna  Jalaxara. 
It  is  however  more  elevated,  studded  with  more  mountains, 
and  less  broken  by  ravines.    Queretero  contains  about  sixty 
thousand  souls.    The  people,  like  those  in  Tepic  and  Guada- 
laxara, are  little  else  than  partially  bleached  Indians.    There 
are  not  white  people  enough  to  fill  the  public  offices.     We 
next  travelled  to  Mexico.    The  counti}  along  this  part  of  our 


n 


TRAVELS      IN      THE      CALIFORNIA  S. 


415 


(\ 


(i 


journey  became  more  and  more  elevated  and  beautiful  as  we 
advanced,  till,  on  a  brij^ht  afternoon  of  June,  we  halted  on  the 
heights  to  view  the  old  home  of  Montezuma,  and  the  country 
far  and  wide  in  all  directions  around  us.  It  was  an  entranc- 
ing sight !  The  green  lields  lay  near,  and  southward  the  circle 
of  smoking  and  snow-clad  mountains  which  environ  the  vale 
■—the  lakes — and  the  city  of  Mexico  !  Our  mules  rushed 
down  the  mountains — our  coach  rattled  on  the  causeway 
where  Cortez'  men  fell  before  the  arrows  of  the  Children  of  the 
Sun  ;  our  feet  trode  the  great  square,  where  Montezuma  per- 
ished, and  we  took  lodgings  near  the  site  of  his  great  temple  ! 
We  tarried  in  Mexico  a  week — looked  at  the  steel  armor  of 
Cortez — the  old  lijdian  bracelets  and  nose-rings — the  present 
Indian  population — El  Presidente  Bustamente — and  were 
most  kindly  and  hospitably  entertained  by  persons  whom  it 
will  ever  be  matter  of  regret  to  me  that  I  shall  so  seldom 
see  again.  From  Mexico  to  Perote  is  one  day's  ride  over 
an  elevated  frosty  country,  partly  clad  with  pine  trees,  but 
generally  consisting  of  hard  clayey  plains,  sparsely  dotted 
with  grass,  between  which  tower  immense  tracts  of  lofty 
mountains.  Perote  is  a  sort  of  fortification,  with  a  few 
houses  in  the  vicinity ;  the  grand  rendezvous  of  the  Banditti. 
From  Perote  to  Jalappa  is  another  day's  travel.  The  last 
part  of  the  way  is  down  the  eastern  side  of  mountains  of  great 
height,  and  covered  with  shining  lava — and  in  the  very  track 
of  Cortez.  Jalappa  is  a  pretty  town  on  the  sloping  mountain 
side,  with  a  sweet  climate — sweet  pineapples — coffee  plan- 
tations— and  orange  groves.  Fourteen  days  we  spent  here, 
and  then  took  coach  for  Vera  Cruz. 

This  town,  founded  by  Cortez,  consists  of  a  cluster  of  fine 
houses  built  on  a  sandy  plain  at  the  sea-side.  It  has  a  pretty 
good  roadstead  before  it,  which  is  protected  from  some  of  the 
winds  by  a  small  island  half  a  mile  from  the  shore,  on  which 
is  a  fortress.  Vera  Cruz  is  a  nest  of  black  vomit  and  black- 
legs— and  we  left  it  in  a  day  or  two  for  Tampico,  tw^o  days' 
sail  up  the  coast. 


41G 


SCENES      in       THE       PACIFIC. 


This  latter  town  is  beautifully  situated  six  or  seven  miles 
up  the  Rio  de  Pnnuco.  Here  wc  remained  thirteen  days, 
\»hen,  with  Arista's  permission,  wc  sailed  for  New  Orleans. 

The  green  woods — the  rushing  floods  of  my  native  land  ! 
I  saw  ye  of  a  stormy  night,  when  I  came  from  the  desert,  and 
the  stormy  seas.  With  a  heart  full  of  joy  I  ascended  the  Fa- 
Tiii.R  OF  Watf.iis  to  tlic  holy  and  blooming  plains  of  my  Prai- 
rie Home— to  wife — and  the  graves  of  those  I  loved,  among 
the  trees  at  Prairie  liodgc  !  And  now,  as  the  reminiscences 
of  my  wanderings  are  coming  up  before  me  like  the  fresh 
leaves  of  spring  when  the  winter  is  gone,  I  marvel  at  the 
human  soul,  that  it  can  look,  back  on  the  mingled  scenes  of 
sufleiing  and  bliss  with  so  much  delight.  The  thorn  that 
■wounded  us  is  forgotten,  while  the  rose  that  bore  it,  is  the 
ever-present  emblem  of  beauty  and  joy.  To  have  seen  the 
Indian  in  his  native  costume — in  his  wigwam — in  all  his  na- 
tional habits  of  act  and  thought ;  to  have  seen  the  flowers — 
the  animals — the  streams — the  mountains  and  the  heavens 
over  them — on  the  broad  expanse  of  the  North  American 
wilderness,  is  a  source  of  peculiar  satisfaction.  Not,  indeed, 
on  account  of  any  merit  which  may  appear  to  attach  to  the 
performance  of  such  a  journey,  but  because  of  the  alimr 
which  it  has  furnished  to  the  mind ;  the  knowledge  it  1 
given  of  the  beautiful  world  on  which  we  live ! — its  grandeur 
— its  infinite  range  of  beautiful  forms — and  its  smiling  pro- 
mises to  man.  And  if  my  readers  do  but  learn  somewhat  of 
these  things  from  the  descriptions  I  have  given,  and  derive 
therefrom  somewhat  of  the  enjoyment  which  fills  my  heart- 
while  I  write  of  them,  the  author  will  be  pleased  with  the 
results  of  his  labors. 


FINIS. 


